Harry Potter and the Tabby Cat's Intervention
by JacobApples
Summary: What if McGonagall had delivered the letter from the start as she had done for every other muggle-raised child? Why wouldn't she have wanted to check up on Harry when she loathed the Dursley's from day one? What would change when Harry has a new legal and competent guardian? Slytherin Harry. No godmoding. No Time travel.
1. A Change in the Course

I am Dyslexic: Language disability, meaning there will be spelling and grammar mistakes.

Disclaimer: JKR owns her works.

Summary: What if McGonagall had delivered the letter from the start like she had done for every other muggle-raised child? Why wouldn't she have wanted to check up on Harry when she loathed the Dursley's from day one? What would change when Harry has a new legal and competent guardian? Slytherin Harry. No godmoding. No Time travel. Reboot.

* * *

Chapter 1 - A Change in the Course

Harry frowned at the bowl with his new 'uniform' and was just grateful that he would not be attending the same school as Dudley.

There was a firm, but polite knock on the door.

Harry sighed and before he could be ordered, he said, "I'll get it."

When Harry opened the door he didn't know what had been expecting. But a particularly tall woman in a white floral dress and large-brimmed sun hat was not it.

Harry had never seen anyone quite like her before. Her eyes were green, though paler than his own emerald eyes, her greying hair was pulled into a tight bun, and her expression… she appeared to be observing Harry as closely as he was observing her.

"Who is it, boy?" Uncle Vernon called from the living room.

Harry felt heat rise to his cheeks, realizing he hadn't said anything to the woman, not even a hello.

"Um, hello, ma'am, can I help you?" Harry asked, slightly intimidated by her regal disposition.

Her face softened, "Hello, Mr. Potter, I've come to see you and speak with your guardians. My name is Professor McGonagall."

Harry blinked up at her, "You're here to see me? Are you from Stonewall?"

She shook her heads, "No, I am from Hogwarts, a private school your parents, Lily and James Potter enrolled you in."

Harry felt a happy thrill go through him. No one _ever_ said his parents' names. And a private school? His hopes died. His parents had left him with nothing, there was no way the Dursleys would send him to a private school. But then this Professor McGonagall looked like she was made of some tough stuff, Harry would let her tell the Dursleys the news.

He held the door wider as Vernon came around the corner.

"Who are you?" Uncle Vernon demanded.

Minerva glared at him, stepping forward, Harry shutting the door behind her. Harry leaned against the door waiting for the ensuing fight that was sure to come. His Aunt and Uncle were never polite to people who wanted to help Harry.

"I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Harry gaped at the woman's back, Uncle Vernon gaped at her, and Aunt Petunia who had just walked into the hall gave a little squeak.

What happened next surprised Harry even more than an adult talking about Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Uncle Vernon's face turned purple and he bellowed, "THE BOY WILL NOT BE ATTENDING THAT CRACKPOT SCHOOL!"

Harry walked around the tall woman to meet his Uncle's gaze, "Wait, you're serious. You can't mean to tell me that Hogwarts really is a school for- for magic?"

"That is exactly what Hogwarts is for, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said cooly. "And you _will_ be attending, as your mother and father did."

"We will not pay for it," Aunt Petunia said sourly, "Nor for any of his things."

"He will not be attending at all!" Uncle Vernon yelled. "We worked too hard to beat the freak out of him."

Harry glared at his Uncle, and definitely turned to the Professor, "Are you- um are you a witch then?"

Professor McGonagall looked at him, her lips set but something in her eyes was kinder when she turned to him. "Yes, I am, I teach Transfiguration."

"We will have none of your freakishness here! Get out! The boy will be normal," Uncle Vernon raged.

The _witch_ ignored him.

Harry followed her lead and asked, "Am I a witch?"

"No," she said.

Harry's heart fell. How was he supposed to attend a magical school if he didn't have any magic? Maybe he could tell her about all the strange things that happened to and around him when he got upset.

But then she finished the thought, "No, Mr. Potter, you are a wizard, witches are female."

Harry grinned up at her.

"Aren't you listening to me, woman? I said he will not be going," Uncle Vernon insisted.

The Professor drew a wooden stick from her sleeve and unlike Dudley's smelting stick, Harry thought that perhaps it was magical, a wand.

It was quite possible Harry was dreaming. It was a good dream.

She pointed the wand at his uncle and said, "You certainly will not be allowed to stop him. His parents were great people, I taught them myself, and Harry will be great as well."

"But his parents got themselves dead, didn't they?" Uncle Vernon snarled. "Murdered by some maniac who was one of your kind. I will not have any of it in my house. You gave the boy to us and we will do with him as we see fit."

"But you told me they died in a car crash!" Harry exclaimed.

Dudley was watching this exchange silently behind his mother. He gave Harry wide eyes. Murdered was more interesting than killed while drinking and driving.

"We didn't want you to get any funny ideas," Uncle Vernon snapped.

Harry frowned, not quite understanding.

"How dare you?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"How dare I? You're the ones who gave him to us without asking. You're just lucky we didn't pawn him off to the orphanage. The boy is nothing but trouble."

"Is that so?" she asked raising a brow.

Harry felt his insides turn to lead, if this professor believed Uncle Vernon… there would be no escaping this place.

"It is so, he is a rude, nasty, ungrateful little boy," Aunt Petunia said, finally speaking up.

Harry wanted to say it wasn't true but he didn't think it would help, it never had before.

The professor flicked her wand and a paper appeared, a contract. "Sign this and I will take him off your hands then?"

Harry didn't believe, couldn't let himself believe it. How long had he wished that someone unknown distant relative would sweep him away? This couldn't be happening. This had to be a dream.

"If we sign that he doesn't have to come back?" Uncle Vernon asked, a cruel gleam in his eyes.

"Yes," she said in a clipped tone, waving her wand again, so that she held out the contract and a quill to him.

Vernon hurriedly took paper and signed it before passing it to Aunt Petunia.

And as much as Harry wanted to leave here, this Professor was a stranger and yes, it was cool that she had just done magic, but supposedly so was the 'maniac' who had killed his parents. But the paper was signed and vanished before he could voice his worries of being handed over to some lady who was a self-proclaimed witch.

Professor McGonagall turned to him, go get your things. Harry shook his head, "I'm not sure this is a good idea." Caught between unease and not wanting to reveal that his room was the cupboard under the stairs to her right.

"Harry, I know this is a lot to take in, but I can't leave you here if you are being mistreated."

Harry squared his shoulders, his innate stubbornness taking root, "How do you know if I am being mistreated?"

She didn't pull any punches, "You have bruises on your arms, you are overly skinny, and your clothes are several sizes too big for you while your cousin appears to be suffering from the opposite treatment."

"Dudley is not suffering," Aunt Petunia said harshly.

Professor McGonagall did not acknowledge that his aunt had spoken. "Please Harry, grab your things, I will explain everything once we leave here. You will only need to stay with me over the summer holidays until you turn seventeen, students who attend Hogwarts live at the castle."

Harry took in a deep breath and figured that if it was a choice between someone who had taught his parents -and seemed to have liked them, versus an orphanage he knew where he wanted to be. Cautiously, he went to his cupboard and pulled out his book bag. He threw in an extra pair of his best hand-me-downs and his drawings, his other art supplies already in the bag.

"I'm ready," he said when he emerged from the cupboard.

He almost climbed back into the cupboard when he saw the witch's face.

She spoke very slowly to the Dursleys, "You kept him in a cupboard?"

"It was the only place for him, being as he is," Uncle Vernon said.

Professor McGonagall's wand sliced through the air before she turned to Harry. "Let's go Mr. Potter, and leave this swine behind us."

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia screamed and grabbing their backends they ran into the living room, while Dudley shouting, "What's wrong?"

But Harry saw that his old 'guardians' had pink, coiled pig tails growing out from their butts, sticking through their clothing.

Harry took Professor McGonagall's proffered hand, thinking that whatever future awaited him, at least he would never have to return to this place. It was that fact that put a smile on his face as he walked down the steps of Number 4 Privet Drive for the last time.

* * *

AN: And there is the beginning of the story. I am likely going to change the plot a lot as I will be covering all seven years. I will not be skipping/summarizing any of the books so hopefully at least 200,000 word fic? That, as well as Minerva being Harry's legal guardian, is the split from the first draft which will have its own ripple effects.

Hope you enjoyed and please review? Ideas and wants are very welcome.


	2. Awaiting the Gavel

Chapter 2 - Awaiting the Gavel

Professor McGonagall's warning did not prepare him for the sensation of being twisted and shoved and sucked through a straw, magically being transported from behind Uncle Vernon's car in Surrey to an alley in the city of Glasgow, Scotland.

Harry felt like throwing up, he didn't, but his legs did give out and he plopped on his butt. He looked up Professor McGonagall wanting to tell her how awful he thought that had been but not wanting to insult his new guardian.

Her lips twitched, "Very well done, Mr. Potter."

Harry gave her a skeptical look as he shakily stood to his feet and dusted himself off.

She grinned then, "Most people throw up their first time."

"I almost did," Harry muttered.

"Well, onward we go. I thought we should shop for muggle things first and then go out for supper. I think the magical world can wait a little longer."

"Muggle?"

"Non-magical humans," she explained.

"Oh," Harry said lamely. His mind was bursting with questions but the Professor seemed -even as she was trying to be nice, like a stern person.

Besides Harry didn't want to wind up with a pig's tail.

So it was in silence that Harry followed Professor McGonagall through the streets of that old city. He watched the buildings with a sense of awe. The Dursleys never took him anywhere and he liked the change in people's accents.

When they arrived at a young man's clothing store Harry was at a loss as to what to do. He had _never_ been shopping before and he felt awkward at the idea of using a stranger's money.

Professor McGonagall seemed to read his thoughts, "You will pick out at least three sets of regular attire, two comfier sets, and two pairs of pajamas. You will also pick out new pairs of socks, underthings, and a pair of durable shoes. We will get you something formal from the wizarding world."

"Er-" Harry started.

"I am your legal guardian, Mr. Potter, it is my duty and privilege to provide for you. Now come, I don't wish to be here all day."

Harry followed her, running his fingers over all the different types of cloth. He picked out things that had the best feel to them and bold solid colors with a minimum amount of designs on them. It was an efficient shopping trip, but Harry's insides squirmed when the price rang up.

He opened his mouth to protest but again Professor McGonagall cut him off. "It is polite to thank someone who buys you a gift, and most impolite to refuse it."

With a hesitant smile, Harry said, "Thank you, Professor McGonagall."

"You are most welcome, Mr. Potter." She set aside one of the outfits before the clerk could bag them, "Here, go change, and you can throw your cousin's clothes in the bin."

Once they exited -Harry in clothes that truly fit him, and Professor McGonagall as regal as ever, they found a restaurant. It wasn't fancy, but the food smelled intoxicating, and all the customers seemed to be happy regulars.

They sat at a booth table and Harry was overwhelmed with his options. He had never been able to eat out, and even though he was the one who cooked half the meals at the Dursleys, he was not the one who got to choose what was made.

He ended up ordering the fish of the day and as they waited for their food to arrive Harry's dam of building questions finally burst. "You taught my parents?"

Far from being angry at having a question posed to her, Professor McGonagall looked relieved, "I did indeed. Your mother was the top of her year and your father was one of my most talented students."

"What is transfiguration?" Harry asked next, remembering the name of the thing she said she taught.

"It is the magic to transform one thing into another. As you advance at Hogwarts you will start turning inanimate things into animate beings, such as a book into a bunny. Even more advanced transfiguration allows you to create things out of nothing."

Harry eyes widened, "That's awesome!"

She grinned at him, "That it is. Your father was one of my favorite students, he took to the subject like fish to water, though I do hope you read more than he did. Some of his papers -if I remember correctly, were atrocious."

"What was my mum's favorite subject?"

"Lily's specialty was Charms, she was well on her way to getting a masters in that subject, she was also skilled in Potions. Of course, Lily shined in all her classes, she was well loved."

Harry ate up this information like a starving man. After a lifetime of no one having a kind word about his parents and not being allowed to any questions and suddenly, here was someone who was the opposite of everything the Dursleys were.

"Do you have a funny story about them?" Harry asked hopefully.

Professor McGonagall laughed and continued to laugh as the waiter placed their food down in front of them. Regaining her composure, she motioned for Harry to eat as she told him about his father's infatuation with Lily and his mother's adamant refusal of James until their seventh year.

James sounded sort of like a jerk to Harry, but Professor McGonagall talked about him with enough fondness that Harry thought there might be more to his father than the prankster-jock he was portrayed as. Lily sounded like one of the kindest people on the planet. They both sounded popular and talented, things Harry was not.

"Professor McGonagall?"

She tilted her head, and for some reason, Harry got the distinct mental image of a cat in his mind. "Yes, Mr. Potter."

"Why did you take me from the Dursleys? I mean I know they are not good people, but you don't know me. Isn't taking on a kid a big responsibility? I don't plan to be any trouble, I just..."

"James Potter was my legal godson, Fleamont Potter, your paternal grandfather and I were good friends in school."

"Oh," Harry said lamely, then before he could stop himself, "Fleamont?"

She grinned at him, "His mother's maiden name, it caused him no end of trouble with the other students. It is also the reason why James and you have such 'respectable' names."

"Why did my parents put me with the Dursleys? Surely they must have had friends? Didn't my father have any other family?"

"Your godfather was your father's best friend, Sirius Black, but he was a victim to the war. Your father's immediate line is no more and though, as a pureblood, he had extended family, it would not have been appropriate to put you with some of the older families as the war split many relations."

"What's a pureblood and what was the war about?"

Professor McGonagall sighed and shot a glance around them, no one was paying them any mind. Harry thought it might have something to do with the little circle with symbols she had drawn on a napkin which she then placed in the center of their table. "Pureblood families are like the aristocrats of the wizarding world, they pride themselves in having only other witches and wizards as relatives. Muggleborns, those children born to parents with no magical heritage are considered lesser. For a pureblood to marry a muggle or muggleborn is looked down upon. But there is no evidence whatsoever that muggleborns have a lesser magical skill, in fact, squibs, people born to magical parents who are themselves not magical is also possible. The war was started by a madman who was able to gather together a cult under his ideology. For years he terrorized the country."

"What stopped him?"

"Your mother."

Harry gaped at her, "What?"

She smiled sadly at him, "Your parents were among many who opposed the Dark Lord. When -and should know people avoid saying this name, Voldemort, came to your house, he murdered your parents, but by some unknown power, your mother's final act led to the Dark Lord's demise and saved your life."

Harry didn't quite realize he had tears in his eyes until the professor passed him a clean napkin. Then she passed him the dessert menu. Harry's stomach rumbled. Yes, he had just had a huge meal, but as he approached being eleven years old his appetite had grown well beyond what the Dursleys were willing to feed him.

He ordered the Death by Chocolate option, it was a good decision.

After dinner they took a cab -much to Harry's relief, the trip taking over an hour. Harry watched the winding road as he mulled over the new information. His parents were no longer specters in his mind, sure he still couldn't imagine what they looked like but it didn't matter, they were good people. They had died as heroes, had died to give him and their country a future. They had not been wastrels who had killed themselves while drunk driving. They had, in all likelihood, loved him. And of all the things Professor McGonagall had done for him today, he was most grateful for that knowledge.

* * *

They arrived at a small two-story stone cottage with what looked like a blacksmith's shed attached to the side. It was a neighborless piece of land, with a lawn that had more rock than grass. The cottage sat on a hill between mountains, that overlooked a lake. There were trees in the distance. It was the most forested place Harry had ever been in his life.

The sun had set somewhere behind the clouds, yet there was still enough light to see by. Harry walked behind Professor McGonagall and therefore did not see the man who opened the door.

He had a deep, warm voice, "Minnie! I wasn't expecting to see you tonight, is everything alright?"

"Hello Malcolm, I was wondering if the offer to move in with you over the summers was still an option?"

There was a prolonged pause.

"Of course, you're my sister, of course you are always welcome. Merlin knows I could use the company. But why now?"

Professor McGonagall stepped to the side, revealing Harry who had more or less been hiding behind her skirts. "I adopted Harry Potter."

Malcolm's blue eyes widened as he took in Harry and then his sister. Malcolm McGonagall was a big man, as in tall, broad shouldered, and with visible bludging biceps under his plaid long sleeve shirt. His hair was black streaked with silver, and his features were sharp. He would have been classically handsome had his largish nose not been broken and healed crooked. But despite his intimidating appearance, when Harry met the man's eyes he was instantly put at ease, he saw only kindness in those blue depths.

Harry gave an awkward wave and said shyly, "Hi, Mr. McGonagall."

Malcolm blinked down at him before his expression broke into a gentle smile. He held out a big calloused hand to Harry, who shook it as firmly as he was able, "Hello, Mr. Potter, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Malcolm?" Professor McGonagall questioned.

Malcolm gave Harry a wink, before stepping back, holding the door opened he said, "Welcome home!"

* * *

Harry, Professor McGonagall, and Malcolm had tea before a roaring fire, Harry making fast friends with Malcolm's herding dogs whose names were Artemis and Apollo. Malcolm gave his sister a teasing smile when he had told Harry the shepherds' names.

Harry was soon ushered to a guest room, which he was told was his permanent room not long after arriving as he nearly fallen asleep in his chair. He didn't have long to admire his room before sleep overcame him. Artemis and Apollo pressing on either side of him.

Harry woke in the middle of the night because of a nightmare, a red haired woman had been screaming his name and there had been terrible green light-

One of the dogs was licking his face.

Deciding that he needed a glass of water, Harry climbed over the dogs. He was halfway down the steps when he froze at the sound of raised voices.

"What do you mean you adopted Harry _Bloody_ Potter!?" It was not a voice Harry had heard before.

"Quiet Robert, you will wake him," Professor McGonagall hushed.

"Do you know how much trouble you are inviting into our lives? The danger you are your putting our families in?" The one called Robert demanded in an only slightly more quiet voice.

Harry sat down on the steps, hands wrapping around the wooden banister. _They are going to send me away,_ he thought. Harry felt the wind go out of him. The contract, the clothes, the food, the stories of his parents, and the new home with his own room was all a lie. His luck was just that bad.

"We are not in any danger," Malcolm said, his voice steeler than Harry had heard in the short time he had known him.

"Do you honestly believe the Dark Lord is dead? That a baby defeated him? Inviting the Boy Who Lived into our family is asking for trouble," Robert said, he sounded furious.

"Rob," Malcolm said, "Your youngest daughter works with dragons and your eldest daughter works with goblins. Danger isn't something new."

"Harry is staying with me," Professor McGonagall said.

"How did you even get him?" Rob asked.

"I was his father's godmother and I talked with a few of the right people and got the papers signed over. I am Harry's legal guardian, court declared godmother, and I have more right to him than his non-magical relatives or any of his extended pureblood relations."

"I am surprised you didn't take him right after the war," Malcolm said, though it sounded more like a question.

Professor McGonagall sighed, "Albus talked me out of it, it would have been hard to raise him in the wizarding world given his fame. But those muggles -they are the worse sort."

"He would be better off with them!" Robert exclaimed. "I know you missed out on having children of your own but-"

"Robert," Malcolm scolded.

"You listen to me little brother," Professor McGonagall said darkly, "your wife may have died in the war, and Malcolm's wife may have divorced him to get away from the war, but the three of us fought, we will not be cowards now. We will not hesitate from taking care of our family."

"Harry James Potter is not our family," Robert said harshly. "Malcolm and I have our real children to consider."

Malcolm raised his voice for the first time, though he wasn't as loud as either of his siblings, "Our children are all grown up, they can take care of themselves. Hell, mine are in America. If the Dark Lord does come back we would stand against him again. Harry staying with us does not change that."

"So you're just going to fuel Minerva's fantasy that she can be a mother, decades after losing her husband?"

"She doesn't need a husband, Rob, Minnie is more than capable of taking care of a child on her own than anyone I know. Besides she isn't on her own, she has me."

"This is a fool's mission."

"No, little brother, this is taking responsibility," Professor McGonagall said. "I loved James Potter as if he were one of my nephews, and now I will love and raise Harry as my own son. Whatever challenges arise, I will never abandon him."

There was a long silence, and Harry clung to the railing, his stomach in knots, hoping against hope that this family would accept him, that they would want him.

"Fine, fine," Robert said, "but I warn you, big sis, you may be a professor, but being a mother comes with it's own difficulties."

"Oh shove it," Malcolm said, his tone remarkably lighter, "Minnie helped raise us, there isn't much she can't handle."

"Harry stays," Professor McGonagall said. "We are his home and his family, nothing else matters."

Harry slowly went back up the stairs, curling back up in his bed, in his room, in his home, and cried himself back to sleep. The tears were silent and as much as he was relieved and happy, he was also hurting. Hurting because for once in his life their were people who were willing to care for him and he had never truly believed that to be possible. Hope was a double edged sword, Harry's future had never been brighter, and yet now, he had so much to lose.

* * *

AN: Poor Harry, very overwhelmed, Minerva didn't lie but she did hold back because the culture shock is enough without bringing Harry to London. Please review?


	3. Dark Lords

Disclaimer: JKR owns her creations.

Chapter 3 - Dark Lords

I am the author who wrote Harry Potter and the Tabby Cat, I gave myself permission to rewrite my own story. That's what reboot means. The beginning will be much the same, the rest will be much improved. Please enjoy and please don't report me for editing my own work.

Harry got up early and crept down stairs. The dogs stayed in bed, surprisingly considering they were herding dogs and supposed to rise with the sun. They rolled into the warm spot Harry had left behind, Apollo, artlessly sticking his fuzzy legs up in the air.

Harry looked in the fridge, finding eggs, bread, and bacon. He made scrambled eggs and French toast, leaving the bacon for last as the smell always woke people up. He started the water for tea before putting the strips of meat onto the sisling pan. The small, old fashion kitchen -which also served as the dining room, was a comfortable space, and far more welcoming than the Dursleys'. Harry liked the view out of the windows, instead of nosey neighbors, there were mountains. Although it wasn't sunny, the clouds were closer to the ground here and had their own sort of wild beauty.

Professor McGonagall was the first down the steps, her hair in a long braid over one shoulder. She stared at Harry.

"Minnie? You didn't have to cook-" Malcolm's warm voice cut off when he joined his sister in staring at Harry.

A heavy pair of footsteps proceeded the arrival of a shorter man, who had the good looks his brother might have had. Harry thought that this must be the Robert he had not met yet. Robert gaped at Harry when he came even with his siblings.

"Um," Harry started, "I made breakfast, I hope that's okay?" He was seriously worried he had made a major faux pas.

Malcolm was the first to recover, "Of course, it is alright. You just surprised us, is all." He walked forward and took a seat at the table.

"You didn't have to cook, Harry," Professor McGonagall said softly.

Harry was pleased that she didn't use his surname. "It was my pleasure."

"Harry, this is my younger brother Robert McGonagall, he stops by to visit every now and then."

Harry nodded to the man who gave a rather stiff, "Hello."

Finishing cooking the last of the bacon, Harry brought the plate to the little table, sitting across from the professor and beside her two brothers. It was a small table and Harry felt dwarfed by the taller people, well Robert wasn't tall but he was still heavily built. If Malcolm had impressive muscles than Robert must be ripped.

Breakfast was slightly awkward. Although they all complemented Harry on his cooking skills and thanked him for both the meal and tea, it was clear that none of them knew quite what to do with Harry.

Going with the assumption that these people wouldn't hate questions on principle, Harry broke the ice by asking, "So, um, Malcolm, er- what do you do?"

Malcolm swallowed his bite of French toast and answered in a rumbling yet kind voice, "I am a Metal-Charmer, blacksmith, and not a half bad jeweler. I am one of the few people others come to when they want metal objects charmed by government standards. I have a big business in charming snitches for Quidditch games."

"What is Quidditch, exactly, I get that it's a sport but-"

All three McGonagall's tried to answer at once. They laughed at each other and then Robert spent the next half an hour explaining the rules of the game while Professor McGonagall and Malcolm added in more colorful descriptions.

Harry was rept and very sad to hear that first years were not allowed their own brooms.

"But that doesn't mean you can't learn to fly before you go to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said.

Malcolm grinned, "Our mother was a captain of her team, she taught Minnie and Minnie taught us. She's a great teacher."

Harry turned to her with hope filled eyes and her lips curled into a smile, "Of course, I'll teach you. But James was captain in his own time, and I believe your father had you zooming around the house at a year old on a toy broom. Much to your cat's displeasure."

Malcolm leaned over to whisper conspiratorially, "Minnie is a cat whisperer."

Professor McGonagall must have heard but to Harry's surprise, she didn't refute him.

"You knew me when I was a baby?" Harry asked.

"Of course, I used to visit often. Seeing you was a welcome respite during the war. You used to live in Godric's Hollow. Your house was magically roped off so no one lives there to this day."

"Where's Godric's Hollow?"

"Your aunt never took you to see your parents' graves?" she asked but it was truly a statement.

Harry shook his head.

"Well, we will have to change that."

Harry didn't smile as his insides did a funny little lerch, at once pleased and saddened.

"Speaking of things that should be done," Malcolm said. "May I see your glasses, Harry?"

Nodding Harry pulled off his sellotaped glasses and handed them over. He couldn't help but squint in a useless attempt to see better. Vaguely, he was able to make out the shape of two pairs of glasses. He knew that his own were the pair with a white blur between the black blurs.

There was a spark of light and Malcolm handed Harry back a pair of glasses without sellotape. They fit perfectly and were at once more sturdy and lighter. The style was the same though.

"I charmed that last night, anti-break charm, self-cleaner, and anti-elements charm. So rain, fog, and snow shouldn't bother you."

This time Harry did grin, "Thank you!"

"You are most welcome. I can change the style if you would like me to?"

"No thanks, these are great!"

"The day is a bit chilly but that never stopped my mother and it should not stop us either," Professor McGonagall said, "I think it is a fine day to fly."

Harry's smile was so bright he thought he might break his face.

* * *

"Now, hold your hand out and say up," Professor McGonagall said.

But Harry didn't need to say 'up' because the moment he held out his hand and imagined the broom flying upwards to meet his hand, it did.

"Well done, Harry," she said. "Now mount the broom like thus and-"

And Harry was up in the air, at first levitating and within the next minute, he was soaring between the mountains. The misty air was cool against his skin. Professor McGonagall caught up with Harry easily. For a moment he thought she would tell him to slow down, but she didn't. She motioned him to follow her into a dive towards the lake. Harry's dive was steeper and pulled up later than she did whooping with joy.

The professor laughed. Together they spent a few hours speeding around the humanless mountainsides. They only stopped at lunch. Harry's legs felt like jelly and the ground felt extraordinarily hard.

He didn't like flying, he _loved_ flying.

A little breathless Professor McGonagall walked beside, "Your father would be so proud. I think you might even be the better flyer."

Harry's chest swelled, "Thank you so much, Professor McGonagall, for everything."

She smiled at him, "At school, it will have to be Professor but here at home and in private, please call me Minerva."

"Thanks, Minerva," Harry repeated.

He had never been happier in his entire life, so it was only reasonable that his happiness would be clouded.

* * *

After lunch, which Malcolm had prepared, Minerva sat Harry down on the couch. She handed him his Hogwarts letter.

Harry was somewhat astonished to see it not only addressed to him but that his 'Cupboard Under the Stairs' was mentioned. _How had they known?_

Even though he knew the contents of the letter, he was still pleased beyond measure when he opened the letter welcoming him to the prestigious school.

He was going to make not only his parents proud but the entire McGonagall. He would prove to them and himself that he was not a waste of space and even if he wasn't the smartest or most talented, he would be one of the hardest working students.

Harry felt a little perturbed by the supplies list, however, he knew Minerva would insist on buying these things for him, the idea made him queasy. He didn't like being dependant on other people, it felt like he was taking advantage of their kindness.

It was this thought that finalized his resolve, he would be grateful for everything he was given and he would uphold himself to the highest standard.

"We will go to London tomorrow to pick up your supplies, but there is something you need to know before we go to the wizarding world," Minerva said.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Well, the Dark Lord, as I have told you, terrorized our world and the muggles both, for years there was nothing but odd deaths, disappearances, and people turning on one another. A part of that was due to using the Dark Arts and illegal magic. There are three specific curses that are not just Dark Arts, they considered unforgivable. Just using any of the Unforgivables is enough to sentence you to prison, our jail is called Azkaban. There is the Imperius Curse, which can force a person to do anything, the Cruciatus Curse, which can torture a person into insanity, and the Killing Curse, which causes instantaneous death. None of these curses have countercurses, your only hope against them is to dodge, although there are some who have enough strength of will to throw off the Imperius Curse, the Killing Curse has never failed when it hits its mark, that is- until you."

Harry just stared at her, "Excuse me?"

"The scar on your forehead-"

Harry's hand flew up to touch the lightning scar.

"When the Dark Lord cast the Killing Curse on you-"

Chilling laughter surfaced from his memory and a bright green light.

"-you survived, and inexplicably all you received was that scar. What's more, the curse seems to have rebounded, it destroyed the house and the Dark Lord disappeared, seemingly defeated. People came out of hiding and we began the long road to recovery. Your name is known throughout the magical world, they call you the Boy Who Lived. You are quite famous."

"But- but- I was a baby? I didn't do anything, I thought you said it was my mum who-"

"I believe it was your mother who defeated the Dark Lord. I truly believe that Lily was dabbling in some very old forms of magic and that whatever she enacted before her death is what stopped 'He Who Must Not Be Named.' But as there was no body, well, it is a mystery as to what exactly happened. The facts are that you survived the Killing Curse with only a scar and the Dark Lord was not seen after that night."

"But people think I beat him?" Harry repeated. "That baby-me took out the Dark Wizard who murdered my parents and now I'm famous?"

"Yes."

Harry had no desire whatsoever to be famous, least of all for the night his parents died. He thought of a lot of things to say but finally settled on, "That's stupid."

Minerva's lips twitched, "Perhaps, but then just surviving the Killing Curse would have made you famous. I think you will find that our world, close-knit as it is prone to obsessing over rumours."

"Is- is it going to be hard for me to make friends because of this fame?"

Her face turned even more solemn, "It might make things easier."

Harry frowned, "Not real friends."

"Finding true friends is a lifelong journey, Harry. The biggest warning I can give you is to be mindful of your words and your actions for they will have more weight than you might think. People will hear you-"

"And be watching me," Harry said, in an almost disgusted tone.

Malcolm walked in then with tea, "Not a fan of being famous then?"

Harry crossed his arms, "I didn't do anything to earn being famous except for surviving my parents' murder."

Minerva got up and knelt by Harry's chair, taking his hands in hers, "You listen to me, young man. Your parents loved you. They adored you, you were their entire world. Had they survived and you died, it would have destroyed them. Don't you ever feel guilty for what they did that night, because I know they would have endured far worse to see you safe."

"I wish I could have known them," Harry said quietly.

Minerva wrapped her arms around him, "I know."

Harry hugged her back. Malcolm rubbed his back as Harry mourned the things that would never be.

* * *

The next morning, Malcolm and Harry cooked breakfast together. Robert had only been visiting and had returned to his own home in Britain. Malcolm, Minerva, and Harry set off for London together. They apparated -which still not one of Harry's favorite things.

Harry had never been to London before, but he found himself too see the wizarding world than to look at the muggle city. They entered a bar that no seemed to see.

It was early, as in seven in the morning, so only the barkeep whose name was Tom and a tired old woman in the corner where there when they entered.

Tom lept over the bar to shake Harry's hand, and Harry was glad for the lack of people.

Diagon Alley was wondrous. Harry craned his head around his tall guardians, as they seemed to be guarding him on either side. Shopkeepers seemed to be just opening their doors and the hand full of witches and wizards -dressed in robes and pointed hats, were in too much of a rush to pay Harry any mind.

The first shop they entered was the book store. A store Harry could have spent a lifetime in. He wanted to know it all, he read every title his gaze landed on and was fascinated by everything. Minerva efficiently searched the shelves for the required books while Malcolm followed Harry around, helping to pick out extra books for reading.

Malcolm didn't let Harry pick out any extra books about Charms or Transfiguration, as there were plenty back at home for him to borrow, but Harry did end up getting a book on _Defendable Defences: DADA in Practicality for Beginners,_ _Potions and Herbology Theory: Where the Two Meet_ and _An Illustrated Guide to Beasts Most Fantastic._ The books had detailed drawings and little paintings that could move.

Next, Harry was fitted for his robes, then they went to the apothecary. Harry ogled the different plants and ingredients. He thought that if he were lucky that potions might be a lot like cooking, and he didn't imagine many eleven years knew how to make a three course meal on their own.

Ollivander's was an interesting experience, the man didn't so much scare Harry as much as unnerve him. He felt rather defenseless under the man's peculiar gaze. Harry's nerves were not helped when wand after wand did not suit him. When the Holly Wand finally took a liking to him, Ollivander's tale about Voldemort disturbed Harry.

Holding the wand in his hand, he realized that Voldemort had once been like Harry was, just an eleven year old being chosen by a wand. But Harry would not become a monster, because Voldemort might have been a wizard but he sounded exactly like the sort of people the Dursleys were. Small minded people who hated others who were not like them. Harry would not judge people for how much wealth they had or for who their parents were.

The last store they went to was Owl Emporium. Harry walked through the cages and was instantly drawn to a Snowy Owl whose amber eyes connected with his emerald ones.

"She's a pretty thing, but Snowy Owls are a mean lot. Not many people bother with them. She's likely the smartest bird here but she will take your finger off as soon as look at you," the store owner said, seeing Harry standing beside the cage.

Minerva and Malcolm stood back, letting Harry decide what he wanted to do.

"Can I meet her?" Harry asked.

With a huge sigh, the blonde haired witch with calloused hands went to the cage, muttered, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

The moment the door was unlocked, the Snowy Owl swept out and found a perch on Harry's shoulder. She gave a gracious hoot and little nipped Harry's ear.

Malcolm chuckled, "That's a true familiar there."

Minerva smiled and handed the owner the galleons. "I still prefer cats but Malcolm was right that an owl has more uses."

As they left, Harry watched his new familiar glare daggers at the owner, who glared right back. The Snowy Owl twisted her head to continue the battle and she won the staring contest. The owl seemed to be most proud of herself as the door shut behind them.

That night Harry named the owl Hedwig, from one of the tales he had found while reading his history textbook.

* * *

The rest of the summer sped by and was the best time in Harry's life. Malcolm and Minerva were not the loudest people but they so obviously cared for Harry that it was more than he had ever dreamt of. On his birthday, Malcolm baked him a real cake -double chocolate, and Harry received real presents. Malcolm had bought Harry a magical art kit. After finishing a drawing or watercolor painting he had only to spritz it with the little spray bottle, containing oil that made the artwork magical move. Minerva got him his own broomstick, which he was not allowed to bring to school but was faster than the spare brooms in Malcolm's shed. Harry spent many hours flying around with Hedwig gliding alongside him. Robert who had come to celebrate, bought Harry a book about professional Quidditch teams, and much to Harry's interest, highlighting foreign teams and schools. It was the by far the best birthday ever.

Minerva had to leave two days ahead of Harry to prepare for the coming school year. Malcolm was the one to bring him to the station, navigating the nine and three-quarters oddity with ease. With a warm hug, Harry was off, a pair of red haired twins helping him get his luggage up. He was glad that the twins other brothers found seats elsewhere on the train, Harry stuck the top half of himself out the window and waved wildly to Malcolm, who waved back, tall enough that he was nearly head taller than everyone else around him.

Harry's compartment did not stay empty for long.

"Move, this one-" Harry heard a voice command, "We are not sitting with Malfoy, bad enough we had to be home schooled together. Let Crabbe and Goyle fluff his ass."

"Which one are you talking about?" the second speaker had a heavy Irish lilt to his voice.

"The blonde one who sneers almost as much as you do," snapped the first boy. "Now get into this compartment."

"I asked for your help to get to the platform, I am fine to sit on my own."

"Do you argue about everything?"

"There is already someone in here," the second boy said when Harry's apartment door finally was yanked open, revealing a dark skinned boy with closely cropped hair and a wiry boy with hair as dark as Harry's -albeit straighter and neater.

"Who are you?" demanded the boy who seemed to want nothing more than to be left alone.

"Harry Potter."

The boys exchanged a wary look.

Finally, the wiry boy said, "He isn't sorted yet."

Which seemed to decide the matter for them and they took a seat opposite Harry.

The wiry one held out his hand, which Harry shook. "I'm Theodore Nott."

The second boy held out his hand which Harry also shook, "Blaise Zabini."

"Nice to meet yo-"

A blond haired girl yanked open the door, her expression cold, her grey-blue eyes glacial. "Theo, thank Merlin," she took a seat beside Harry, waving her wand at her luggage and muttering a spell that levitated her bag to the luggage rack. "I thought I was going to have to sit the ride through with Parkinson and Malfoy."

"Who's Malfoy?" Harry asked impulsively.

Three disgruntled sounds answered him.

"Draco Malfoy is the only heir to the Malfoy line. Bastards where one of the few who didn't lose anything in the war," Theodore said harshly.

"He's insufferable. Shame too, Mrs. Malfoy is a dove," the blonde girl said. She turned to Harry then, "My apologies for forgetting introductions, I am Daphne Greengrass."

Harry shook her proffered hand, "Harry Potter."

Her eyebrows shot up, "I would not have thought you would share a compartment with these two. Beautiful owl, by the way."

"Thanks," Harry said, not knowing how to answer her earlier statement, but her comment finally clicked into place why these people had such odd reactions to him. Blood purity and 'lost in war', these were the children of people who had been on the opposite side of the war as Harry's own parents.

However, they didn't flutter and fall over themselves to get Harry's attention, like Harry had over heard the twin's family doing when they merely heard the rumour that 'The Boy Who Lived' was on the train. So it was with this in mind that Harry didn't get up or say anything confrontational.

The first half of the train ride was spent in awkward silence. Theodore and Daphne seemed to know each other but didn't seem to want to talk with one another. Blaise looked out the window and Harry found himself doing the same, watching the landscapes unfold and change before his eyes.

At lunch, the four of them managed some conversation about their subjects. Potions theory seemed to hold everyone's attention the longest as well as Defense Against the Dark Art. The others seemed to be wary of Harry and Harry was glad that he had read his extra reading material because he was able keep up with the conversation. They chatted lightly and before they knew it, they were pulling into Hogsmeade Station.

* * *

Harry's first look at Hogwarts was beyond his wildest imagination. Their group of four road in a single boat and when the landed on shore Harry couldn't help be relieved to see Minerva's familiar face waiting for them. She didn't acknowledge Harry but for briefly meeting his gaze, but she had warned him that she couldn't give him special treatment in front of the other students.

The Sorting began. Harry didn't feel particularly scared of which house he would be in, he was more worried if he would be sorted at all. What if the Hat decided that he didn't belong in any of them? Would Malcolm take him back or would they send them back to the Dursleys?

A Granger, Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor with the red haired twins who exploded with noise. The girl had very bushy hair and had spent her time before they were allowed into the hall muttering spells to herself. She must have thought they were going to face a monster or something.

Daphne was sorted into Slytherin, she walked like a queen to her throne as she approached her table.

Draco Malfoy was also sorted into Slytherin.

Theodore sighed heavily before also going up and being sorted into Slytherin.

Harry was surprised his legs would hold him when he went to go take his own place on the chair. Only the fact that Minerva was standing there kept his breath controlled.

The Sorting Hat descended on his head, _"'Hmm. Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?'"_

Harry jumped at the foreign thoughts in his head, and he thought back carefully, _just don't cast me out._

The Sorting Hat chuckled, _Far too much magic in you to cast you out, Mr. Potter. How about a challenge? Slytherin would help you achieve greatness, merit of your own making._

 _Alright,_ Harry thought back, also thinking that his tentative friendships with the four others he had met on the train might become true friendships.

The Hat chuckled again, _In the last few decades things have become screwed, but Slytherin is a house where lifelong friends are made. You may hear them called selfish but there is a reason why so many Slytherins make friends with the all so loyal Hufflepuffs._

And with that last thought, the Hat announced, " _SLYTHERIN!"_

The silence in the Great Hall was deafening. Harry was pretty sure everyone had stopped breathing. Minerva was the first to recover, lifting the Sorting Hat off Harry's head. She gave him a small smile. Emboldened, Harry stood and began to walk to his table.

The silence continued and Harry felt that the eyes on him were not friendly.

"We got Potter," an older Slytherin said softly, though his voice carried in the quiet.

One by one the Slytherins stood and began to clap, but it wasn't a ruckus applause, it was a deliberate, slow clapping that might have followed a solemn, well delivered speech. This confused Harry, and when he took a seat between Daphne and Theodore, he asked, "Why is everyone acting like someone died?"

Muttering and whispering had consumed the hall as the sorting continued.

Draco Malfoy drawled across from him, "Don't you know, Potter? This the Dark Lord's house."

"Oh," Harry said lamely, then asked, "What does that matter? Wasn't he really old?"

Daphne coughed a laugh, "It matters because most of his followers came from this house too. That the golden boy savoir ended up here will be soul crushing to some."

What Theodore said next made Harry realize just how deep the hole was that he had stepped into, "And to others, you'll be the next up and coming dark lord."

"Um-" Harry stuttered, feeling totally unprepared for the future ahead of him.

* * *

KEYNotes: No Gringotts and no formal Weasley introductions.

AN: I am a Slytherin and most of my friends are in Hufflepuff. This is not going to be a unit the houses fic, this is going to be improve Slytherin from within fic. No dark or even grey Harry.

Please share your thoughts and reactions with me?


	4. By the Looks of Things

AN: So it has been nearly two years since I tried rebooting this story. I shall not go back and edit because I like to see my own progress(May, 2018) and I'm not being paid for this. But I have returned because I need the motivation to keep on studying my French, and I did promise to return to this story once I started reading the HP books in French again.

P.s. This is the only story that I have forgotten the plotline to, and I suspect strongly that I didn't have one to begin and that the original Tabby Cat's plot morphed into the Beauty Beneath story, which means this story is going to get adventurous, and any all ideas are welcome to get my thoughts rolling. What do you want to see from this story? (Aside from updates and finishing of stories, nagging me won't help you, I have three jobs and doing other projects:)

Chapter 4 – By the Looks of Things

One could say a lot about Malcolm McGonagall, war veteran, father, divorcee, Metal-Smith, Charms-Master, a cheater at cards, but nobody had ever doubted his love for his children.

Not even when his wife, ex-wife, Maria took their son Joseph and their daughters Sarah and Anna to live in America with their American Grandparents.

True, it wasn't as hard as it might be for a muggle father to visit from out of the country, but no matter how quick a portkey was, visits weren't the same thing as living. He missed so much of their lives, and Joseph, their only child to inherit magical abilities, had attended Ilvermorney, not Hogwarts.

Malcolm had missed out on so very much… He had lived for those visits, even as every time he saw them, they had grown a little more, the void between them gaping ever wider as they became adults and he, evermore the absentee father.

He had buried himself in work, just as Minnie had after her husband's death, moving into Hogwarts itself, having an apartment rather than a home. Just as Robert consumed himself with smothering his children within neat safe little walls.

Of course, that had backfired for Robert quite spectacularly, Topaz and Doyle McGonagall had both pursued careers that could be described as just about anything _but_ safe.

And thanks to Robert's smothering, Malcolm rarely saw his niece and nephew, so when Minnie showed up on his door with a ward in toe, there had been no hesitation in his heart.

That her ward was Harry Potter, the grandson of Fleamont Potter, had just been a pleasant surprise.

And Harry?

Harry was a gift, inquisitive and heart breakingly kind. Malcolm couldn't wait until the holidays for Harry to come home, couldn't wait for Hedwig, his snowy owl to deliver a letter from him at school.

Joseph hadn't sent him mail of his first days at school, and his daughters had gone to day-public schools, they had felt no need to send letters home.

Malcolm also couldn't wait to see which house Harry had been sorted into. Minnie had been sure he would follow after his birth parents, after tasting his cooking Robert had bet on Hufflepuff, but Malcolm…

Malcolm had seen the spark in Harry's eye when he had looked for approval, but also the concentration he spent while trying out his paints. There was a drive for greatness in that boy, a certain level of ambition.

Hogwarts, Malcolm had decided, wasn't going to know what hit them.

* * *

Albus was not pleased with her, Minerva could tell.

He had, of course, heard of the custody loopholes she had exploited, exploited before even going to pick Harry up at the Dursleys.

She had no regrets, until the paperwork was signed it was reversible. Meaning that had she shown up to the Dursleys and Harry had been a happy, well-adjusted child, Minerva would have shelved her claim for guardianship by way of superseding her once claim of being James Potter's Godmother onto Harry, seeing as his own godparent was out of the equation.

"Well," Filius said with a smile, "this is bound to be an interesting year."

No one at the head table misunderstood his meaning.

Harry Potter at Hogwarts; Harry Potter in Slytherin.

Albus stabbed his fork into a carrot, and very deliberately ate the bit of orange vegetable without looking at her.

She had successfully avoided him over the last few days, not an easy task, but she had managed.

As his second command, Minerva had seen the Great Albus Dumbledore lose the twinkle in his eyes a few times.

And there certainly weren't any twinkles for her now.

She, however, felt her spirits sore, with Harry in Slytherin he would make his own name for himself. Those in the school that thought to hero worship him now might not be so keen. Though he would certainly face a different sort of social dynamics in Slytherin, Minerva had found it rather hard for people to dislike Harry once that got to know him.

Rob had been won over in an hour, and he was as stubborn as they come.

But then Harry had made bacon, if there was one sure way to her little brother's affections, it was good food.

"I cannot believe James Potter was sorted into _my_ house," Severus muttered darkly, almost as put out by Harry's sorting as Albus.

Almost.

Minerva corrected Severus, " _Harry_ Potter, Mr. Snape, and I think you will find he takes after Lily a great deal more than James. Though to be fair to him, he is quieter than them both."

Severus's jaw tightened, "Lily was quie-" his words caught and Minerva smiled.

He glared at her, and amended, "Lily was quiet while she was studying."

"Really?" Filius asked with a grin, "I seem to remember humming while she read, and exclaiming when she made a connection."

Minerva smiled, "You, Severus, as well as James, got non-verbal casting long before she did."

Filius laughed, both of them remembering the delight Lily Evans had taken in learning how to pronounce Latin spells.

Madame Pince lifted her chin, "Ms. Evans was a disturbance in the library."

Severus scowled harder at this line of discussion, doubtless reminded of the hours he spent before his fifth-year being very much a part of that 'disturbance'. Lily had been a light in the dark. He asked, "How do you know if Mr. Potter takes after Lily? Look at him, he looks as arrogant as his father."

Willingly or unwillingly, all the staff eyes turned to Harry who sat stiffly in his seat between Theodore Knott and Draco Malfoy.

The Malfoy heir was chatting Harry's ear off and Harry looked as if he wanted to sink into his seat. He looked up suddenly, as if he could feel their eyes on him, his shoulders rounded.

"He looks terrified," Pomona noted sadly.

"He looks small," Poppy said, "You have been feeding the boy, haven't you, Minerva?"

Severus looked at her, "Why would it be Minerva's responsibility to feed the boy."

"Because as of this summer, I am his legal guardian."

His expression went blank, and even Minerva couldn't read those onyx eyes. He was so much younger than her, but he had traded away pieces of his soul that Minerva hadn't.

"He can't live at the castle."

Minerva would have liked to scold him, instead, she said only, "We are staying at my brother, Malcolm's home."

"He should be with his relatives," Albus said for the first time speaking up.

Poppy snorted, "Not looking like that he shouldn't."

"He could just be small for his age," Pomona mused.

And the conversation veered away from Harry and into how much other students had grown and where their graduated students had wound up.

Albus looked at Minerva, and she knew this was not the end of this discussion.

* * *

Harry was quite sure he had found his cousin's doppleganger, and sure, Draco Malfoy wasn't an over-weight blubbering buffoon who couldn't count to fifty, but spoiled, self-centred entitlement still oozed off him like a noxious gas.

And if it wasn't hard enough to relax and enjoy the feast before him, _everyone_ was staring at him, including the teachers, including Minerva.

But at least Minerva didn't look at him as a freak.

Unlike his new Head of House, Draco's godfather, who was staring at him like if he wished hard enough Harry would go poof.

Which, for all Harry knew of magic, was completely plausible.

All Harry wanted to do was enjoy his food, the star flecked, floating candle ceiling, and maybe ask the Bloody Baron how exactly he had gotten so bloody, but _no_ , he had to listen to Draco who was going on and on _and_ on about his father.

Daphne caught his eye and rolled hers, Tracy winked at him, Theodore -Theo, gave Harry such an overly dry look it was hard not to grin at him, and Blaise, well Blaise had had enough.

"My mother dated your grandfather once, she said the Malfoys were nothing but a bunch of hacks whose monetary value was soaked up in assists. Bet your Daddy pushes you real hard, seeing as you are going to have to work for living to keep dear Mama and Dada Malfoy living the life they have become accustomed to."

A few of the older students in earshot snickered at this, and Draco's face when from porcelain to flamingo pink in mere moments.

"You don't know anything about my family."

Blaise sneered, "Is that what Daddy told you to say?"

Crabbe and Goyle, two numb skulls who _choose_ to go by their last names, cracked their knuckles.

Millicent, a girl Harry had overheard introducing herself to Pansy, asked him, "What about you, Boy Who Lived? Rumour has it you lived with muggles. Were they rich, or-" she looked him up and down, "Poor."

Harry had never considered himself to be kidlike, he had never had friends. The most time he had spent with kids his own age, he had been running away from them. But at least now he could say he was wearing clothes that fit him and that were new, robes that were in the same uniform style. Not rags boiled in grey dye. Minerva and Malcolm had warned him that some in the Wizarding community cared a great deal about blood status and class.

He didn't want to mess with it, or add to it, the Dursleys had hated him for _being_ magical just as surely as they would hate them for being mundane. So, to simplify things, he said, "I live with Malcolm McGonagall."

"Professor Minerva McGonagall's brother?" Daphne asked, a surprised lilt to her voice.

Harry nodded.

"Why aren't you in Gryffindor then?" Pansy asked.

He shrugged, "The Hat said this was the house of greatness."

Draco sneered, "And you thought what you, you would be as Great as the Dark Lord?"

Harry straightened his shoulders, "No, I have higher standards than that."

He raised pale brows, and, "You really think so, Potter?"

Harry smiled, "Sure, I'm not going to be taken down by a baby."

No one laughed, but from the way his housemates looked at him now, he thought that maybe, he was different than what all those stories and rumours made him out to be.

Or maybe he had just conformed to them all, but what did he know?

* * *

AN: Slow start, but hey, to quote Jimmy Webb ' _I'm aliiive!'_

Any and all ideas, suggestions, thoughts, comments, or unicorns chased to the sea?


	5. Cats and Potions

AN: Thank you to the reviewers! I know this is not one of my top stories but I and my muse are struggling to stay afloat. Your reviews help get me through the day.

Chapter 5 - Cats and Potions

Harry was pretty sure most snakes didn't live this far under lakes, but he thought it was the coolest thing, not to mention his favourite colour was green. And everything was green.

Following the prefects, their group separated from the girls.

Prefect Marcus Flint said, "In the other houses, I've been told the same year boys share one room. But our founder, Salazar Slytherin respected his students' privacy and peace of mind more than that, therefore each year gets four rooms, two for boys, two for girls. There are six of you so split into three."

Malfoy pushed Crabbe and Goyle into the first room, leaving Harry, Theodore -Theo, and Blaise.

"Well, that solves that, your luggage should appear shortly. Any owls will be in their own tower. Welcome home."

And with that, the gruff older student turned to head further down the hall, presumably where his own room was.

Harry was quite pleased with their room, despite the fact that they were in the dungeons. Yes, the walls were stone and there weren't any windows, but there were beautiful woven tapestries and thick carpets. There was a fireplace in the far corner with a couch big enough for three. Around each fourposter bed hung thick emerald currents.

Harry hardly remembered preparing for bed, and couldn't recall when his bags appeared. He was curled under the layers of toasty blankets, listening to the fire crackle, as sleep stole him away into dream filled places.

oOo

The food at breakfast was wonderful.

Being gawked at not so much. Everyone he passed in the halls, hushed and then began to whisper, often while he were still in earshot.

"If you hunch your shoulders, they are going to see you as weak," Theo pointed out.

"That's because he is," Blaise said, shoulder passed them to walk ahead.

Harry sighed and tried to tell himself that the whisperings were better than dodging fists.

He straightened his shoulders, today was his first day. His guardian was the Headmistress of the School. He was safe, and he needed to make his new family proud.

"What are you thinking?" Theo asked.

Harry turned to face the other boy, seeing brown eyes watching him closely. "That you're right, today is my first day it matters how people see me."

Theo frowned, "You don't know, do you?"

It was Harry's turn to frown, "Know what?"

"How people see you? You're the Boy Who Lived."

"I know the story."

"But you don't know what that 'story' means to us, do you?"

"It was my mother, Theo, whatever happened to Voldemor-"

"Don't say the name."

"Saying You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named sounds stupid."

"Then call him the Dark Lord."

"Why?"

"Because there used to be a curse on that name, and people were tortured for saying it when they weren't supposed to."

"Oh, okay, the Dark Lord it is then. But as I was saying, it wasn't me who killed him. My parents must have done something. I'm nothing special, I'm just Harry."

Theo sighed, "I thought you were going to be an asshole like Malfoy. But you're just another kid."

Harry grinned, "So are you."

He shook his head, "Your parents were Dumbledore's, my dad was the Dark Lord's, a Death Eater. He avoided prison, like the Malfoys, Crabbes, and Goyles, but we can never be 'just' anything."

Harry thought about that as they entered into the hall, thought about the way the Dursleys treated him because of his parents, because of the way he was -magical. "Everyone here cares about who our parents were, not who we are?"

Blaise and Daphne looked at him sharply, but neither said anything to him.

Theo answered, "Yep, everyone cares."

"Well, I don't. You're Theo, I'm Harry, end of discussion."

"Dork," Blaise coughed, causing both Daphne and Tracy to giggle.

But Theo continued to watch Harry, like he was still deciding where to place his bets.

Draco came to the table, talking overly loud to Pansy and his two goons, who looked like two dumber, only slightly less round versions of Dudley.

Harry was content to tune out the blonde's words and enjoy the food.

Soon enough, their Head of House, a dark-haired man with a perpetual scowl began handing out their time-tables.

He seemed to pause to scowl especially hard at Harry, but moved on.

They had Minerva's class first to Harry's absolute elation and anxiety.

Harry had time to glance over all his books during the summer, but the three classes he was determined to do best in were Transfiguration because of Minerva and his dad, Charms because of Malcolm and his mum, and Potions because in addition to his birth mother having had been good at Charms, she had also, according to Minerva, been good at Potions.

He figured the Minerva and Malcolm would be least displeased with him if he at least was able to scrape average in those three subjects.

Yes, he planned to try his hardest in all his classes, but in those three, it was imperative he do well.

Minerva said she would never send him back to the Dursleys, but Harry really didn't want to give her any reason to regret taking him in.

So when the bell rang, he was both excited and terribly worried about Transfiguration.

"She isn't going to hurt us," Theo said as they found their seats, "I heard McGonagall is tough, but she's fair to everyone."

"Unlike Snape," a Hufflepuff nearby said.

Before Harry could answer, a tabby cat stalked into the room. Hopping onto the desk, the cat with a circular marking around one green eye, observed them all stoically.

And then the cat transformed into Minerva.

Harry broke out into helpless laughter as the rest of the class clapped.

Everyone looked at him as if he was mad -except Minerva, who gave him a falsely stern expression.

Theo kicked him under the table and Millicent asked, "What is wrong with you?"

But Harry just shook his head, swallowing another laugh. All of Robert and Malcolm's sly jokes over the summer finally made sense.

Minerva was a cat.

Harry had to bite his cheek to keep from smiling like a fool.

Minerva began her lecture and Harry transcribed her every word into messy notes, he was definitely going to have to get better with a quill.

When it came time to transform their matchstick into a needle, Harry was second after Blaise.

"How did you do that?" Theo asked.

"Picture it in your head, your intention matters more than the words or wand motion."

"Twenty points to Slytherin. It is not every student that gets this spell on their first try." Minerva said, after checking over Blaise's needle. Then she came by to Harry's table and Theo managed his as well, "Another ten points to Slytherin, well done, Mr. Potter, Mr. Nott."

Minerva didn't smile at him with her entire expression, but her eyes smiled at him and it warmed him to his bones.

For her approval, he would do a lot.

Never again would he have to botch his scores in order to do worse than Dudley so he wouldn't get yelled at.

Harry could feel the other students -Malfoy in particular, glaring at them.

Harry decided that it wasn't the worst feeling, to be disliked because they were quicker studies than the others.

By the end of class, only Daphne, and Hannah, a Hufflepuff, were able to get the spell as well.

Draco was eerily quiet on their walk back down to the dungeons for Potions class.

oOo

"Mr. Potter, pay attention," Snape snapped at the end of his introduction.

An introduction that had enthralled him, no wonder his mum had liked this subject.

But at being called out, Harry startled and said awkwardly, "I was taking notes, Sir."

"So you think you will fly through this course without any trouble?"

"Er-what-n-" Harry cut off his own stumbling words, completely unprepared for this level of hostility.

From what he gathered from his Sorting, Slytherin was not a popular house, but Harry hadn't thought any of the teachers would have disliked him without getting to know him on day one, least of all his own Head of House.

Snape went on, "I assure you, Mr. Potter, this will not be a class your fame will get you through."

Harry felt heat rush up his face, and he bit his tongue hard to keep from saying something foolish.

He had no doubt anything he said in this school would get back to Minerva. And it wasn't like he hadn't been called worse than 'famous.'

"Did you do your summer reading?"

"Yes, Sir."

"What would I get if I mixed asphodel and wormwood?"

Harry didn't hesitate, if he was wrong, so be it, but he had played this game with Uncle Vernon, hesitation usually got his ears rung, "Daught of Living Death."

And just like Uncle Vernon, Snape wasn't impressed by the correct answer, so he asked another round of rapid questions to trap him. "What is a bezoar, and where might I find one?"

"It is a healing stone that comes from a goat," Harry said, then amended quickly, his mind spinning as he tried to recall everything he had read, "From a stomach of a goat, and it can heal most poisons if ingested."

Snape's eyes darkened and Harry tensed in his seat, ready to push back from his seat and run if he had to. The older wizard's tone was deep and threatening, like poison settling at the bottom of a cup, "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry's thoughts tripped over themselves. He couldn't remember.

A flash of panic went through him as Snape's lips tugged up in a smug smirk.

What would the professor do if he answered wrong? Could he be expelled?

Professor's Snape's words were a trap.

A trap?

 _It's a trick!_

"They are the same thing?" Harry ventured, "the same plant with different names?"

He couldn't keep the question out of his voice, and Snape looked at him bitterly. But the Professor's voice was cool when he spoke again, "Correct, Mr. Potter, it appears I can expect the rest of the class to have read the book as closely."

Heavy sighs and glares came at Harry from every direction

"Don't hunch," Theo said under his breath.

Harry straightened just as Snape said, "Ten points to Slytherin."

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw a boy sink into his seat as Snape passed him and a bushy hair girl nearly break her quill as she took down notes from the board.

Tracy leaned forward in her seat, "Good going, Potter."

Harry couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

* * *

"How did your class go?" Minerva asked Severus before he was seated fully in his chair.

"Fine."

Minerva wanted to shake him, "How did Harry do?"

"His and Mr. Nott's potion was adequate."

"How-"

"Minerva," Albus interrupted, "other parents do not interrogate their ward's professors on their class progress."

She snorted, Filius laughed into his goblet, and Severus rolled his eyes, but it was sweet Pomona who put it into words, "Hogwash, I already received fifteen owls this morning from worried parents. Not everyone likes the concept of boarding schools."

"Most parents cannot interrogate the professors in person, _at work_ ," Albus amended.

"Well, none of the rest of us have children," Pomona said, "not for years and years anyway. Will he be staying here with us next summer?"

She sounded hopeful.

"No," Minerva and Albus said together.

Glaring at him, Minerva continued, "Harry and Malcolm have already grown close. I won't be staying the summers any longer."

"How is Malcolm? I haven't seen him in ages."

"He is well."

"Hmm, that explains his letters," Filius mused, "Malcolm doesn't often reach out for Charms insight these days. He asked me this summer for younger readers introduction books. He must be thrilled to have a son going to Hogwarts."

"Mr. Potter is not Malcolm's son," Albus snapped.

Minerva smiled at him, and even before she saw Severus flinch, she knew it wasn't a pleasant expression, "Malcolm is quite pleased to have _our_ son attend Hogwarts."

Albus, wisely, did not argue the point further.

* * *

Defence Against the Dark Arts was a weird class.

For one, the turbanned man smelled like garlic, and for another, for a Defence professor, it seemed ironic that he was afraid of his own shadow.

Through the man's stuttering, Harry thought he heard him say something about iguanas.

But there was something else, something that sent chills up Harry's spine in the muggy room, something about the wizard that told Harry to stay away.

He sat in the far back, watching Professor Quirrell, as something… something unseen watched Harry.

* * *

AN: Suggestions, thoughts, ideas, or black cats, please? I'm considering time-lapses of weeks or months until we reach more of my plot, I'm so used to writing time-travel that in writing a plan AU, I'm not sure how much of the first few books needs to be included. What specifically do you want to read? Thank you, as always, to the reviewers :D


	6. Murdering You

KEYNote: I have not mentioned the Philosopher's Stone, i.e. that event and many others probably hasn't happened. This is now a true AU plot, and unlike many of my other stories, you will not be getting Mr. Riddle's insight. I will still be skipping stuff because I am taking more out of HP books than adding. Vaguely less chaotic earlier education. Do enjoy ;)

Chapter 6 - Murdering You

Flying was joy, listening to Malfoy brag, not so much.

Harry didn't interfere when he picked up the little globe, nor when he started bickering with the red-headed boy when families were mentioned, nor did Harry say a word when the bushy haired girl began to lose her temper and began lecturing Malfoy.

Nope, Harry did absolutely nothing, because the boy, Neville wasn't there to be hurt and losing that globe thing wasn't the end of the world.

What got Harry, was when Malfoy said, "Oh, please, Granger, it isn't as if Longbottom has parents to care what happens to him. He has no one to impress."

And speaking for orphans everywhere, _that_ , was not a line to be crossed.

Even Theo who seemed as bored as the rest stiffened at Malfoys latest big-mouthed nonsense.

"Oi, Malfoy, Zabini must have been right about your Mommy and Daddy, if you have to steal such small trinkets," Harry said in a lazy tone he had picked up from listening to Marcus.

The blonde turned on him, in slow dramatic anger.

Harry grinned, he couldn't help it, he just didn't see the spoiled boy as a threat. Draco Malfoy was weak, clinging to the idea of strength coming from names and titles.

Harry knew that real strength came from being bigger and meaner, or being the faster runner.

"What did you say, Potter?"

"I'm saying you must be pretty desperate, if your Daddy can't afford a trinket."

Malfoy bared his teeth, but Harry saw the nervousness in him. Harry had heard the phrase, 'Slytherins stick together,' but if that meant being painted with the same brush as Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy, he was willing to break policy.

"What do you know? Your parents never made it to your second Christmas."

Harry slow clapped, "Oh, well done, very clever. Point out that the kid who is famous for being orphaned doesn't have parents. Wasn't that clever, Theo?"

"Salazar would have been proud," Theo said so drily that Harry thought he might have been mocking them all. But in his brown eyes, Harry saw his mirth awaken.

The girl with bushy hair, squared her shoulders, planted her feet, and held out her hand to Malfoy, "Hand it over. I'll give it to Neville."

Malfoy turned on her with a fury, at the same time Blaise said, "Quit wasting everyone's time, hand it to the girl. Or are you really that desperate that you need an object that reminds you not to leave your stuff behind?"

Malfoy all but threw it at the girl, turning on Blaise with a snarl, at which point Coach Hooch came back, "Right, everyone back on their brooms. We have just enough time for a few laps around the pitch."

No one else fell off their broom.

And Malfoy, blessedly kept his mouth shut.

Something had shifted in their class. Harry was second guessing himself on publicly going against Malfoy, but whether Slytherin House stayed unified or not, they were all individuals.

And Harry had no plans to meekly accept Malfoys blathering as the voice of their year for the next seven years.

* * *

Dear Malcolm,

Hogwarts is awesome! I was sorted into Slytherin, which has apparently upset a lot of people. Including my Head of House, Professor Snape. I don't know what I did to make him hate me from the moment he saw me, but I was the first Slytherin he has ever publically gone after with no cause. And we had a class with the Gryffindors, whom I'm told he _really_ doesn't like.

Do you know if he is friends with Minerva? I'm scared to say something bad about him to her, seeing as they are co-workers.

Minerva and Professor Flitwick seem to be the only ones not 'stupified' by my sorting. The Sorting Hat said I could do great in this house but it would be challenging.

He wasn't kidding.

I get along with most of the people in my year in Slytherin, everyone else from the other houses just gape at me or whisper about me. I don't think I'll try too hard to make friends with them. It just isn't worth it to make them see me as not an icon, fallen or otherwise, to seeing me as a person or a possible friend.

But I love magic, it is like mentally figuring out how to use an invisible muscle I never knew existed. Don't tell Minerva, but I like Charms more than Transfiguration.

DADA is weird. I didn't fully understand what Professor Quirrel was trying to say, but do you know anything about how an iguana might help against the Dark Arts?

Anyway, I like it here, but I miss you, Apollo, and Artemis. Hope you are well!

Warmly,

Harry

P.s. Sorry about my hand writing, I'm not used to the quill yet.

P.s.s. Also, I'm going to get you all back for the cat jokes.

oOo

Malcolm was overjoyed at Hedwig's appearance, and his delight only grew at the length of Harry's letter. True, it wasn't a novel, but it astonishing to see how much Harry had begun to confide in him compared to the boy he first met on his doorstep.

It was a mark of how starved Harry was for a loving family, or even friends. But it also showed that Harry had not been broken by the Dursleys' treatment.

Far from it, he had come out caring and strong.

Malcolm set to replying a very detailed letter, first with assuring Harry that he need not be scared to confide in Minnie.

Even if it was to tell her he preferred Charms to Transfiguration.

Malcolm grinned, fully planning to tease his big sister mercilessly for the rest of their lives.

* * *

School went well for Harry, and while he wasn't top of his class, there was a certain potency to his magic that was uncommonly strong. And there wasn't a teacher that could complain about his study habits and quality of his homework, not even Professor Snape.

He had begun studying Potions to be more like his birth mother, now he more or less strived for perfection to spite Snape.

Transfiguration was his most difficult class, his spells while powerful, didn't come easy to him. He forced himself to spend twice as long over Minerva's homework.

Charms remained the easiest, the magic coming to him as natural as breathing, which turned out to be a boon as he got into utilizing the art set Malcolm had given him.

The days passed, he became ever more emersed in his magical studies and ever more confident in his place with the McGonagalls. He exchanged at least three letters a week with Malcolm, and as for Minerva… Minerva was the kindest person Harry had ever had in his life. She wasn't exactly a light-hearted person, but she did have a sense of humour, and she was always there for Harry. No matter what he came to her with, no matter how trivial, she always there to lend support or advice. Though Harry tended to ask Malcolm for more help when it came to his studies because Harry found it difficult to admit his magical shortcomings to Minerva. Not because he thought she would use it against him, but because he wanted to make her proud.

He depended on her and on Malcolm.

They were his family.

Harry couldn't deny that when he came to Hogwarts he had wanted to prioritize making friends. But once he got here, he put his studies ahead of almost everything, not because he was obsessed with books and trivia like the Ravenclaws or that one know-it-all Gryffindor, Hermione Granger. But as he saw it, Harry had to prioritize his studies, his adoptive mom was a teacher _and_ the Assistant Headmistress of Hogwarts.

The result of this was, however, that Harry hadn't exactly made friends yet.

He very nearly had made enemies with Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin despising red-head named Ron Weasley, and a particularly ill-mannered Hufflepuff, known as Zacharias Smith who Harry believed to be most responsible for spreading rumours which had lent to the whispered insult of 'Dark Lord Potter.'

A title that most of Slytherin House had dismissed out of hand even if the rest of school hadn't.

As Blaise had so elegantly put it, "Dark Lord my butt, you're Professor McGonagall's son, you try one dark arts spell and let's see what she does to you."

Theo had shaken his head and patted Harry's back, "Ordinarily, I would say I would say something nice at your funeral, but I wouldn't attend, you know, just in case she blamed us or something."

Theo was perhaps the closest thing Harry had to a true friend, quiet and surly, Theo was a wickedly witted and quick tempered boy.

But unlike Harry, he was better at keeping his opinions to himself. Theo and Harry sat next to him in every class as well as partnered in all their classes that required partners.

While they didn't confide in one another per se, Theo was always prepared with a sarcastic comment whenever Harry had a new jaw-dropping realization about what magic or the magical world could do.

Harry, in turn, would share revelations about the muggle world, some completely factual, like paying for things with little plastic cards, others were a bit more of exaggerations, such as doctors healing people by slicing them open with knives.

oOo

"She was crying in the last stall. Do you know why?" asked one of the Patil twins.

"Ron called her a know-it-all," the Gryffindor twin answered.

Having no love for Ron Weasley, Harry felt outraged for Granger, but he felt even worse when he realized that when the Patil twin had said 'know-it-all', he knew immediately who they were talking about.

It was enough that Harry half wanted to go see if the girl was okay, but he couldn't very well go into the girl's bathroom.

"What are you thinking, Potter?" Theo asked him.

"Nothing."

"Are you sure? I worry when you think, it seems to be a strain."

Harry frowned as they sat and was sure he would have said something equally witty when Professor Quirrell came running into the Great Hall blabbering.

Minerva stood at the head table, "Merlin, Quinius, just spit it out."

"There is a troll in the dungeons!"

At which point the wizard fainted.

Some Defense professor.

Minerva was able to announce to the hall, "Everyone stay where you are!" before the room burst into panic exclamations.

She was rushing out of the door along with Snape, Flitwick, and others, before the Headmaster issued their next instructions, "Prefects, direct everyone to their House dorms, no one is to leave their dorms."

And then he too left, leaving no professor behind.

Even Quirrel had gotten up and left somewhere in the mess.

Harry and Theo, having arrived rather late to supper after arguing about who would do what for a group project given to them for Herbology, sat at the end of the Slytherin table.

So Harry was able to grab Marcus Flint's arm when he passed trying to direct their house into order.

"We can't go back to our dorm!" Harry all but yelled to be heard.

Marcus did yell, "The headmaster sai-!"

Harry cut him off, "Quirrel said the troll was in the dungeons!"

This stopped the Slytherins trying to hedge past Harry and Flint, and they stopped the people behind them.

It was amazing how quickly the Great Hall emptied, because in a matter of minutes, the Slytherins where the only ones left.

Nobody looked back at them.

"What do we do?" Draco asked in a high voice. "We sitting ducks here!"

Gemma, another prefect, pointed to the far corner of the room near the head table, "There is a room back there we can hide in. It will be tight, but we can fit."

Marcus nodded, "Better than sitting out in the open."

As one the Slytherins turned and headed into the room.

They weren't slow about it, but they were all to dignified to run, except for Malfoy who slammed into the door, he was the first through, Grabbe and Goyle lumbering behind him.

Harry didn't follow, and Theo hesitated by his side, "What?"

"There is a girl in the girls' bathroom, what if she didn't hear? I don't think anyone would think to-"

"Didn't I just explain to you thinking wasn't good for your health?" Theo snapped.

Harry stopped thinking altogether and ran to the hall, acting on instinct.

If it was him crying in the bathroom, friendless, hurting; troll bait.

He would want someone to rescue him.

Theo followed, "Damn you, Potter."

Harry entered the girl's bathroom without hesitation, he said to Theo, "I didn't ask you to come," before calling out, "Granger! Granger, are you in here!"

A girl hiccuped, and the bushy haired brunette came out of the last stall wiping at her face. "You're boys, you not allowed in here."

"There's a troll in the school," Theo told her drily, "And this moron thought he would let you know."

"A t- troll?" the Hermione Granger stuttered.

"Yeah, a-"

A large crack sounded through the room as the door splintered under a massive club that had just been pounded through it.

Theo and Harry ran for the Granger girl, pushing her into the stall clambering onto the toilet.

One of Harry's feet dunked with both of Hermione's, she let out a squeak and both Theo and Harry clamped a hand over her mouth.

Harry imagined the three of them made a very dignified picture. Two boys holding a girl quiet as they held still, standing on and in the toilet.

Dignified or not, it was all Harry could do himself not to gasp when the troll smashed his club into a stall.

There was a short silence, the sound of sniffing, then another smash, this time into one of the sinks. The sound of porcelain and a mirror breaking.

The troll let out a bellow as water sprayed it.

Clearly, the thing didn't like being wet, something Harry could have guessed by its atrocious smell.

He didn't think trolls were much for baths.

Judging by the sounds, the troll had decided it was the walls fault for being wet and continued to beat the crap out of the sinks and mirror, which naturally, led to more broken pipes and more anguished troll sounds.

Soon the bathroom was flooding.

Harry couldn't stop from wondering where help was, surely someone could hear this, and what was the good of having a haunted castle if the ghosts didn't make use of their ability to spy and disappear through solid walls and floors?

The troll was becoming more frantic and in swinging his club back to further his attack on Hogwarts' plumbing, it also took out the remaining stalls.

Leaving three first years hugging each other in the face of one very angry, wet, stinky troll.

Harry pulled his wand and yelled the freezing charm he had learned, at the same moment Theo used a common slicing charm.

A slicing charm on the trolls eyeballs.

The troll screamed, reeling backwards it dropped its club to clutch at its eyes.

Hermoine got her arm out from between them, wand in hand she shouted, " _Tarantallegra!"_

The trolls feet jittered a bit, which was enough to send it slipping back on the ice. Its head hit the wall with a sickening crack.

The room was enveloped in a resounding silence except for the water still spraying from the broken sinks onto the now completely still troll.

"Happy Halloween," Theo said as Minerva followed by Snape and Flitwick ran into the room, wands raised.

Minerva paled upon seeing Harry, and Snape began to sneer, Flitwick was checking the troll who Harry was pretty certain they had just killed.

Minerva motioned for them to leave, and they climbed carefully off and out of the toilet, Theo and Harry caught Hermione as she nearly slipped in the now bloody water.

As soon as they were over the shattered door, Minerva asked, "What in the world do you think you were all doing?"

"I heard there was a girl in the bathroom as I was coming to dinner and I figured she hadn't heard about the troll."

"You should have told an adult."

Harry felt his lips thin, "There weren't any, you all left."

"Then a prefect."

"They were busy."

"You're a first year, Harry, you could have been killed! You could have gotten Mr. Nott killed."

Harry pointed with his free hand, "Instead we killed the troll, as opposed to Hermione getting killed, we killed it. That's more than you can say."

Minerva narrowed her eyes at him but it was the Headmaster who came up behind her who said, "Fifty points from Slytherin, for both you and Mr. Nott. For foolishly endangering yourselves and not following my instructions."

Minerva spun on them, but Harry beat her to it, "Your instructions? You told us to return to our dorms! I don't know if you, _Headmaster_ , understand but Slytherin dorms are in the dungeons where the troll was supposed to be."

The Headmaster's eyes darkened, "Clearly," he indicated the bathroom, "it wasn't in the dungeons."

"But how would you have known that?" Hermione countered.

"Where are my Slytherins now?" Snape asked speaking for the first time.

"In the side room in the Great Hall, Sir," Theo answered.

"They aren't allowed in there," the Headmaster said, his voice stern.

"Apparently," Minerva said coldly, "It was a wise place for them to go."

"Are you three quite alright?" Flitwick asked.

All the adults looked at them, soaked to their shins, shaking from adrenaline and fear, smelling like the stinky troll they had jointly murdered.

Flitwick seemed to get this even before Theo snarked, "We're bloody splendid."

A cleaning and drying spell hit them.

"You all need to get to bed," Dumbledore said a bit more sympathy.

"You weren't hurt at all?" Minerva pressed.

"No," Harry said softly, "nothing hit us."

She sighed and then she, as Hermione's Head of House, accompanied her to Gryffindor tower, and Snape left to retrieve the rest of their house.

Theo and Harry followed the dour man rather than stay with the Headmaster, who, at a guess, was rather floundered by not only a troll getting into his school but two Slytherin boys playing hero.

"My father is going to kill me," Theo grumbled.

"Why?"

"Because I helped saved a mudblood."

Harry swung his arm around his shoulders, "You don't have to tell him you saved a _muggle-born_ , you can tell him you saved me, the once Vanquishing Baby of Fearsome Dark Lords."

Theo didn't pull away but glared at him, "You aren't helping."

"You can say you wanted to kill something. Surely your dad will understand a need for experimenting with your abilities. I thought Diffindo only worked on parchment, I didn't it could be used like that."

"Flitwick warned us not to slice our fingers off, that led me to believe it could be used on just about anything." He was quiet for a moment, "Maybe Dad will believe I befriended you so I can murder you when there aren't any witnesses."

Harry couldn't suppress his smile, "Friends?"

" _Murder_ , Potter, did you not hear what I said, I said I was planning on _murdering_ you?"

Harry smiled impossibly brighter, "You would have done it already, _friend."_

The word was making him giddy, his _first_ friend, well aside from Hedwig. Okay, aside from Hedwig as well as Malcolm's dogs, Apollo and Artemis.

"Dunderhead," Theo muttered under his breath, looking away to hide a rare smile.

Harry's skin prickled and he looked up to see Snape staring at them with onyx eyes, it was as if he had never seen their like before.

Harry supposed Theo and he did make an unlikely pair.

Theo, the son of a Death Eater and heir to an old dark magic pureblood family, and Harry, the half-blood son of _two_ Order of the Pheonix members and the very person responsible for the Dark Lord's demise.

In no universe were they supposed to get along, much less be friends.

But as Harry saw it, weirder things had happened.

* * *

AN: And before you ask, no, Hermione is not a main character. I did away with the idea that there must be three friends, Hermione will find her click, she will be an ally of sorts but not a close friend of Harry's. Theo and Harry shall be besties. And you won't meet my pairing for Harry until the fourth year. Next chapter will be the rest of the first year. Hope this was enjoyable and that the pacing is alright.

Any thoughts, ideas, reactions, or stray cats are welcome, pretty please?


	7. Empty Hats

AN: So I started reading the Fifth Season and have decided to give a go at a more narrated style of writing until we catch to where I want to be with a few immersive seasons. I apologize in advance if it fails or if my peculiar sense of humour slips the leash a little to far.

Chapter 7 - Empty Hats

Amazingly, Theo didn't murder Harry. This was the basis of their whole friendship really. Harry was thankful for not being dead and Theo was protective of the person who actively dismissed all of his thoughts or intentions of homicide.

As the start of friendships went, it was promising.

As the year wore on, magical day after magical day of haunted castles and maybe one or two vengers into the forbidden forest for some potion ingredient or another. There wasn't any in the castle yet to spot Mr. Nott and Mr. Potter apart.

For those in the more outgoing houses, this development of two heirs, one light, one dark, they feared that the dark had won out.

But those who belonged to that more secretive house couldn't rightly proclaim or discern the difference between what was supposed to be light and what was supposed to be dark.

For Mr. Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Hero of Thousands, who with his parents and step-parents, Gryffindors all, should have been bold and rash.

Which wasn't strictly untrue, but Mr. Potter was also cunning and competitive. And not a wee bit secretive when the need moved him.

Although he didn't like to be the centre of attention, he took personal challenges, challenges of honour, rather seriously.

For instance one day in late November, Mr. Malfoy took it upon himself to point out the family feuds between the Notts and the Potters. "Your father tried to kill Theodore's dad, Mr. Nott, it came out in his hearing. And as Mr. Nott was acquitted, it is James Potter who would have gone to jail. You are descended from criminals, Potter, and Mr. Nott wants you dead. Some say it is why Mrs. No-"

Mr. Potter (the younger, not the senior who is at this point in time unequivocally unavailable to respond to such accusations) hexed Mr. Malfoy.

A hex that resulted in all the hair on top of Mr. Malfoy's noggen to grow out of his nose.

It was not an altogether painless or distressless experience.

Where had Mr. Potter learned such hex some may wonder? Well, Mr. Nott (the younger, of course, Mr. Nott senior having done away with any voluntary interactions with any of the Malfoys a long time ago) was quite a versed teacher of seemingly harmless mischief.

Seemingly harmless.

At any rate, Mr. Malfoy made a wretched amount of noise and wailing, which by the proximity of Mr. Weasley, the youngest Weasley currently at Hogwarts, and Mr. Snape, the only hopeless romantic turned Death Eater turned spy at Hogwarts, were conveniently placed so the end result of Mr. Malfoy's dramatic balding and nose beard spiralled down to one trip to the infirmary, one detention for one red head boy, and 100 points deducted from Gryffindor.

As for Mr. Potter's guilt and Mr. Malfoy's testimony, well, Slytherin protects its own, even if they are fractioning from the inside out.

So in sum, some might indeed consider Mr. Potter tainted by the dark, but 'some' did not include Mr. Theodore Nott.

For you see, in Mr. Harry J. Potter, Mr. Nott had found the unlikeliest of possibilities: a person he could depend on.

And for that, for trust, for friendship, to not be alone in the shadow of a father who wanted nothing to do with him, Mr. Nott had changed.

Oh, he hadn't changed greatly. After all, Mr. Nott is all of eleven going on twelve. But perhaps the way he talked had changed, a bit, instead of mudblood, he said muggleborn, instead of holding fast to the old ways, he felt in his heart a rebellion.

Even if Mr. Nott was not quite ready to go against his father, he wasn't against following where the Boy Who Lived might lead him.

It was a small rebellion, or perhaps, it was such a large rebellion that like an earthquake softly felt, the witnesser might claim the tremor insignificant, but the Earth… the Earth knew better, knowing that the very crests of the land were forming mountains.

And such was the friendship of Mr. Potter and Mr. Nott, two young boys whose fates were slowly entwining, shifting the future toward a path that was as inevitable as the rise of mountains.

* * *

The winter holidays arrived quicker than Harry could have imagined. He was conflicted, on one hand he never wanted his time at Hogwarts to end, and the other hand he dearly wanted to be home with Malcolm. A man he was quickly coming to consider to be his father.

Harry probably sent three letters to him every week. At first, he had written mostly questions he had about Hogwarts and school, which he certainly still did, however, he also started to ask questions the Dursleys would have killed him for.

Such about British history, about world history, about why people in papers said things the way the said them.

Malcolm, having been raised in the muggle world seemed to have an answer for everything or at least an opinion on everything. Often, he added lessons of morality or antidotes about the trouble he had gotten into when he was younger. Lessons and stories Harry imagined most parents shared with their children.

Harry was usually pretty good when it came to issues of morality. Asking himself 'what wouldn't the Dursleys do?' had gotten him through most things.

But what Malcolm gave him was an insight into how the world worked, where the Dursleys had done their best to isolate him from everything and everyone.

For example, on the issue of Professor Snape, who still hated Harry on principle, Malcolm had cautioned Harry that though Snape's behaviour and views were incorrect, Snape's immense bitterness was not Harry's doing.

It wasn't Harry being evil that made his classmates hate him for being in Slytherin. It was what they had been raised to believe and act.

Just as it wasn't anything wrong with Harry, magical or no, that had made the Dursleys horrible people.

It was Malcolm who gave Harry the strength and the confidence to shrug off the whisperings about him, shrug off the attention of strangers whether negative or positive.

"Because, Harry, you must believe this, however, someone treats you or the things that someone says about you, aren't always personal. Even if it is about you, to you, it isn't always you who caused it, no matter how it makes you feel. That isn't to say you can do no wrong, in fact, it means quite the opposite. If someone angers you and you lash out at them, you never know if you have hurt them. You never know if you are kicking at someone who is, in some backward way, asking for help."

Harry had written back to the portion of this letter, "So I can't have enemies because I might become the bad guy? So I'm not allowed to be frustrated with people who get in my face about being a dark lord?"

Harry could almost hear the laughter in Malcolm's tone when he wrote, "No, you are certainly entitled to all of your feelings. Just remember that words have power and that people are complicated. And while I will never encourage you to make enemies, it far less trouble to just let people be, always defend your safety. Letting someone walk over you is never a good idea.'

Harry reply had been greeted with a short response. "So what you're telling me, Malcolm, is to not take things personally and be nice. While at the same time stand up for myself."

"Exactly."

There was nothing at all black and white about Malcolm McGonagall.

The same could not be said about Minerva.

But Harry had come to view the older woman has a pillar, his steadfast supporter who believed in him no matter what.

Which was kind of scary sometimes because in believing he could do anything, she often pushed him hard in his studies. Expecting nothing but his best.

Which after growing up with the exact opposite, being constantly called stupid, slow, lazy, and inept, was something that made Harry want to exceed her expectations.

Which led Theo to nag him about the sorting hat and everyone being wrong about Harry's Slytherin and possible Gryfindor sorting. Saying he was Ravenclaw in disguise.

But Harry didn't study hard because he liked to, he would much rather be playing games, flying, or painting than doing his homework twice over, no, the reason he was tried so hard was altogether Slytherin, he was ambitious enough to want to impress Minerva.

This was no small feat when he had people like Hermione Granger, and despite his extremely annoying ways, Draco Malfoy as first and second in their year.

When it did come time to go home for break, a break of no homework or responsibilities, he was more than ready.

Theo stayed behind at Hogwarts and Minerva made her own way home two days after the train departed from Hogsmeade station.

Malcolm picked Harry up with a hug and promise of hot chocolate.

Entering the little home tucked away into the mountains, Harry breathed in deeply.

Home. This feeling was home.

And then he was promptly taken to the ground by two tail waggling menaces but that was okay.

The furballs, Apollo and Artemis were also home.

oOo

Harry hadn't really been able to go out and buy gifts in Hogwarts, unless he tried bribing older students as Daphne had, he couldn't order anything.

Or maybe he could have with Hedwig's help. Regardless, the only money he had was that given to him by the Minerva, which meant that she would be buying her own present.

So instead, Harry had made his gifts. He did not give either guardian a painting of his human figures, as even to Harry his attempts looked… rather monstrous. But he had been able to paint two small paintings.

One was a painting of Hogwarts from the view of the lake at dusk. With the bespelled oil, little tentacles from the giant squid sometimes waved at the viewer and the lights from the Hogwarts windows with turn on and off depending on the time of day.

The painting Harry gave Minerva was of the Forbidden Forest, a painting with enough detail that he hoped she didn't suspect how much time he and Theo may or may not have spent in the forest.

The trees were painted with vibrant colours of autumn, not all of the Forbidden Forest looked like a scary story, and the magical oil made the sunshine spots flicker back and forth, and sometimes, a little tabby cat in the distance would peek out from around a tree trunk.

Oddly, both Malcolm and Minerva had been rendered speechless.

And in the wordless astonishment, Harry felt a level of satisfaction he had never dreamed of. They were surprised and happy with him, and he hadn't expected how good it would feel to give a gift rather than receive one.

Though Minerva's Christmas gift had nearly brought Harry to tears.

In addition to clothes, board games, and a book on Personal Transfiguration for an Early Start, she gave him a large album.

An album compiled of pictures of his family, _all_ , of his family. There were images that waved to him of his father and his friends, still pictures of his mother, a view with a less depressed looking Professor Snape. There were pictures of his parents on their wedding day, pictures of himself as a baby in his mother's arms. There were even pictures of his grandparents, a lot of them with Minerva and his paternal grandfather. The added section of the McGonagalls, of Minerva with her brothers, of the brothers with their wives and children…

It made Harry feel included.

It made him feel loved.

He traced the edge of his mum and dad dancing together before a fountain, finally, a face to a dream.

"Harry?" Minerva questioned, "Are you alright?"

He looked up at her worried expression. Blinking back tears, he tried to talk around the lump in his throat, "I've never… I've never seen a picture of them before."

Her eyes went wide, and then she dropped to her knees beside him where he sat next to a beautifully gleaming tree, "I'm so sorry, Harry. Know that they would have been so, so very proud of you."

Harry hugged her back.

And if he cried, neither she nor Malcolm would say.

oOo

Suffice it to say, it was Harry's very best Christmas ever.

Malcolm and he made a near continuous mess in the kitchen trying out different baking recipes while Minerva taught Harry the art of chess and how to cheat in magical Jin Rummy.

"If you cheat," she said primly, "you are only cheating yourself, as it you won't be able to develop those skills on your own." Then she had grinned, an expression rarely seen by Hogwarts students, "but in this case, it a part of the game."

Malcolm had snorted, "She means a part of the fun, Harry, now, eyes on your opponent's hands, Minerva plays dirty."

Harry also made use of Malcolm's gift, charmed flying clothes to keep the cold out and keep you from overheating. Winter could be glooming, but the woods and the mountains and the frozen river… winter wonderland wasn't a saying for nothing.

And from a birds-eye view, or zipping through trees, leaving the fallen snow undisturbed, it was exquisite.

Winter break ended before Harry was ready, but he returned to school more determined than ever to outshine Malfoy and Granger.

Theo had greeted him with a glare, "You are too chipper, Potter."

Harry had grinned wider, and passed over a large tin of cookies and pastries.

Theo forgave Harry for his high spirits.

* * *

And thus was Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts in Slytherin. He finished second in his year and Slytherin won the House Cup, though in a turn of events, lost the Quidditch Cup to Ravenclaw.

While some of you maybe worrying about Ms. Hermione Granger, I, the Sorting Hat, word urge you to set aside such concerns.

Ms. Granger gained a bit confidence after facing death by troll, and Mr. Neville Longbotton also found his bravery when Mr. Ronald Weasley teased Ms. Granger in front of a Hufflepuff girl, Ms. Susan Bones.

Ms. Granger, Ms. Bones, and Mr. Longbottom became quite a formidable group. A group that laughed often and cared deeply for the people around them.

Even if Ms. Granger was a bit bookish, and Ms. Bones bit too talkative, and Mr. Longbottom a bit shy, they balanced each other, dismissing those who would mock them.

There is yet one more incident of the year that might interest you, my dear knowing reader, and that would be the incident that unfolded between Mr. Potter and Professor Quirrel on the night before summer vacation.

* * *

Harry was running back to his dorm, he had stayed a bit too long in Minerva's office trying to finish a puzzle while she graded final papers.

He had no doubts Minerva would give him a pass if he was caught outside of curfew, but he didn't want to hear it from Professor Snape.

In Slytherin, instead of losing house points, Snape had a habit of house shaming and detention outside of the view of the other house students.

It made the whole, 'Slytherin gets special treatment' and annoying twist. They got in _more_ trouble with Snape than the other students could dream of.

Regardless, running into a teacher on patrol when he rounded a corner was the opposite of helpful.

Professor Quirrel put a hand on Harry's shoulder to steady him.

He stuttered, "Mr. Pot-Pot-tter, wha-what- there i-is no run-running."

Harry apologized at once, Professor Quirrel always gave him the creeps, and for the first time since being near him, his scar didn't burn.

Quirrel patted his cheek with his bare hand in the most condescending manner, "Be-best be getting to-to be-bed. Yo-you ar-aren't in troub-trouble, I re-tire to-tomorrow."

Harry pulled back, "I'm sorry, Sir. Why are you retiring?" When what he wanted to do was rejoice, no more Quirrel!

Quirrel's smile made something in Harry's gut turn over, "I am no longer needed here."

It was only after Harry was packing his trunk next morning that he realized that the last thing the professor had said, he hadn't stuttered at all.

* * *

AN: And that's the end of year one. Thoughts, comments, concerns, ideas, or corn snakes? Pretty pleasssse?


	8. The Chamber's Secrets

KEYNote: I took key things out of the story, like the stone, which was on purpose. Minerva's actions were not the only things to change.

AN: Thanks for the feedback on the narration, it was my effort to not do a listing of events. I shall try it once more, so bear with me as I try to find my footing. This fic is going to take place in year 6 to 7 and is basically going to go to hell in a handbasket. Please enjoy the moments of fluff and humour while it lasts.

Chapter 8 - The Chamber's Secrets

Mr. Potter's summer with the McGonagalls went very well. It was a summer of flying, painting, baking, some light studying, and an abundance of family love.

It was only his drive to improve himself as well as seeing his friend, Mr. Nott again that made the prospect of returning to Hogwarts exciting.

Mr. Potter made the Slytherin Quidditch team, and as the Seeker ensured victory for his house. His popularity in Slytherin was much more than it had been, though to be truthful, that was not saying much.

Of course, as well as Mr. Potter's second year at Hogwarts was turning out, there was something stirring in the walls.

In a very little literal sense.

"Do you hear that?" Mr. Potter asked Mr. Nott.

"No."

"It's saying it wants to kill something."

"Potter, if you want to disprove people thinking you're crazy, hearing voices others can't, isn't going to help."

"Is that Mrs. Norris?" Mr. Potter asked coming up short at a puddle and rather unfortunate text on the walls.

Mr. Potter was of course blamed for the incident.

Now he was not only the Next Dark Lord, but the muggle and muggle-born hating psycho cat killer, petrifying ghosts, a young Mr. Creevey, and Ms. Granger.

However, 'cat killer' was a bit of hyperbole in this case, seeing as Mrs. Norris was not in fact killed but petrified like the rest.

Mr. Nott thought it was hilarious that people were blaming Mr. Potter for this, until the teachers began discussing shutting down the school.

Although Mr. Hagrid was taken to prison until a hearing could be held for his supposed crimes, it was Mr. Potter who remained the prime suspect. All of the staff but for three Heads of House thought like the majority of the student body (who were not in Slytherin) that Mr. Potter was responsible.

Oddly, it was Profesor Sprout that doubted Mr. Potter, and Professor Snape who was one of his strongest advocates when Professor Lockhart suggested to Headmaster Dumbledore that Mr. Potter be expelled.

Apparently, Professor Snape could imagine Mr. Harry Potter as the next Mr. James Potter, even if he was the son of Mrs. Lily Potter and sorted into Slytherin. But what he could not fathom was Mr. Potter as a dark lord or related to Salazar Slytherin.

Of course, no one by the last month of that year had learned that Mr. Potter was a Parselmouth, not even the McGonagalls.

* * *

"We have to do something," Theo declared as Harry joined him the library. Classes were cancelled, and the curfew was set after dinner. Seeing as no one had been attacked in the day yet, the halls were deemed safe until sundown. Instead of teaching the professors roamed the halls.

"We only have a month left of school. And I for one will not miss DADA."

"Oh please, I think it is better to be hated by that stupid fart, I can't imagine what it would be like to be fawned over by him. Watching Snape knock him on his ass was the best thing to happen this year. Seconded only by Malfoy sicking a spider on Weasley."

Harry couldn't disagree, especially after the pixie incident.

"But I can't go home early, Harry, I can't," Theo continued, "And I will not be homeschooled for the next five years either. We need to find the Chamber of Secrets."

"Great," Harry said, "where do we start?"

Theo pointed at a stack of old newspaper.

Harry gaped at him, " _You_ did research?"

"Shut up, just because I'm not trying to keep up with the kid with private tutors and the Bookaholic, doesn't mean I hate reading."

Harry just grinned.

Sighing Theo flipped open a paper, "The last time the Chamber was supposedly opened, a girl named Myrtle Warren was killed. Hagrid was expelled and then the Chamber of Secrets fell back into the whisper of legends."

Harry frowned at the date.

"It's Moaning Myrtle, Harry, she's a ghost here, we can ask how she died."

But Harry was still stuck on the dates, "How old do you think the Dark Lord was?"

"I don't know," he answered, "My grandparents' age, I think they were the ones who got my dad to join."

"Do the dates match when they would have been in school?"

Theo too, frowned at the date, "Yeah, they do. Narrows down who the Dark Lord could have been if so. There were bigger class sizes back then. There were maybe one hundred male students in Slytherin. Hagrid wasn't in Slytherin, I think it is right to doubt he was the Heir to Slytherin."

"Yeah, it seems more the Dark Lord's style, it seems like he was obsessed with Slytherin."

"He was. I wish more people cared that Merlin was a Slytherin rather than a thousand year old dead guy and the psycho that nearly destroyed our house. Half of our parents' generation is dead or in prison, or something pathetic like my father or Professor Snape."

Harry changed topics, knowing how much Theo hated talking about his family, "So you really want to find the Chamber of Secrets?"

Something like mirth shown in Theo's dark eyes, "We will go down in history."

"I mean I'm already a part of magical history, but maybe you'll get a footnote."

"Prat."

They found Moaning Myrtle in the bathroom after getting permission from Pince to leave.

Moaning Myrtle was all flirtatious giggles when they asked how she died, this ended with her flushing herself down the toilet after Theo said, "So you choose to live your afterlife haunting a toilet, that's almost as miserable as your life, which of course, is rather pathetic."

"So," Harry said, not commenting on Theo's harsh words, "If she died right here then -oh look snake!"

Theo bent to see it, "Good a sign as any. Maybe it needs blood."

And before Harry could stop him, Theo had cut his thumb open with a cleaned potions knife he had a habit of keeping in his pocket, then swept his bloodied digit over the metal snake.

Nothing happened.

Harry looked at the snake then hissed, " _Open."_

The sink groaned then the grates pulled back opening to show a tunnel.

Theo stared at Harry in horror. In a whispered voice, he said, "You're a parselmouth."

"A what?" Harry asked.

"A Parselmouth. You can speak in Parseltongue, the language of snakes."

"So what? I've always been able to. I once released a boa constructor on my cousin. It was glorious."

Theo shook his head almost violently, and grabbed Harry's arm, "Who knows?"

"The Dursleys, but it just hasn't come up with anyone else. Why? Is it rare?"

Theo squeezed tighter, shaking Harry bodily, "Rare? Harry, listen to me, you can't tell anyone, _ever_. Being innocent won't save you."

"Innocent?" Harry almost laughed, "And save me from what?"

"People are angry you got sorted into Slytherin. Dumbledore damn near despises you for destroying the image he helped build up about you be the saviour of the Light. You were supposed to be his Golden Boy. You should never have been sorted into Slytherin. It is too dangerous."

Harry pulled back from him, his own temper rising, "What are you talking about? You know it wasn't me who defeated the Dark Lord. I'm as Slytherin as you, I proud to be a Slytherin. Why should it matter what house I was sorted into to begin with? And what does any of this have to do with being able to talk to snakes?"

"Merlin, Harry, you really don't get it, do you? The truth doesn't matter, the truth has never mattered. What people believe matters. And if they find out that you're a Parselmouth, they will lock you up. You will be lucky if you make it through school."

Harry scoffed, "Minerva would never let that happen."

"Didn't you ever stop to think why Slytherin's symbol was a snake? He was a Parselmouth."

"So what? Is it genetic or something? Was my great-great something relative was related to Slytherin? Who cares?"

Theo threw his hands up, "Harry! Harry, that would make you his heir! You would get blamed for all the attacks. Merlin help us, I wouldn't have taken you to find the Chamber of Secrets if I had known. But even if you weren't related, people won't dismiss your connection to the Dark Lord, you will be seen as _his heir."_

Harry's eyes widened, and he breathed, "He was a parselmouth too." He looked at the tunnel, "Well, I guess it really was him who killed Myrtle then."

"Harry, look at me, you have to promise me, you have to promise me you will never tell or show anyone that you can speak to snakes. I can't lose you, I can't lose my only friend."

"You really think they would hurt me? That it would confirm I'm evil to them?"

"Harry, your birth parents and your adoptive parents fought against those who were with the Dark Lord's, _you_ have gone down in history as the one personally responsible for killing him. You ended the war.

"It doesn't matter that the McGonagalls stand by you, they aren't enough, not when Dumbledore turned on you in the public eye. Dumbledore's followers don't trust you. And those on the other side, the old families, fallen Death Eaters, and the Dark Lord sympathises, they hate you too. They would love to see you fail. Love to see the last of the Potters, the son of a mudblood and a blood traitor parish.

"Your sorting estranged the people on your side, and it didn't sway those who were already against you."

"I have you on my side."

Theo's smile was extremely bitter, "I'm just a kid, Harry, I don't matter at all."

"You matter to me."

"Then promise me you will keep this a secret. We opened this chamber with my blood, nothing more."

"I promise," Harry vowed.

Theo's shoulders slumped in relief, then he asked, "Ready to go face a monster?"

Harry looked at the tunnel, and proving he would have done just fine in Gryffindor, he slid down the tunnel first.

oOo

"You know that ability is going to get you killed someday, but it's extremely cool," Theo said as the second door opened. "Are snakes smart?"

"Very, though the boa was more communicative than the garden snakes I've met."

Theo blinked brown eyes at him, "Yep, still the coolest thing."

Harry smiled then waved Theo first, "Ladies first."

"I told you it is a _male_ fashion to grow your hair out. Maybe you should. Maybe you'll have actual curls instead of whatever you think that bird's nest is supposed to be."

"You're just jealous."

"Hardly, you know your grandfather got rich off of starting a shampoo business? If his hair was anything like yours, I'm not surprised."

"Really?" he asked, "I'll ask Minerva once -we…" he paused, "Slytherin was a freak."

Theo pursed his lips, "He was ambitious."

Harry waved his hand at the statues, "But why?"

"Because he could. Do you hear that?"

"Now who's hearing things?" But then Harry felt the vibrations through his feet. He turned to face the open mouth statue in the centre of the Chamber.

He heard that disembodied voice again, " _Master? Master, have you returned so soon?"_

And then Harry heard what might have been something large and scaled sliding over stones.

Theo figured it out the same moment Harry did.

"So, a wild guess here, but Salazar's Monster was probably a snake."

"See, I wasn't crazy when I heard it-"

Theo grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him into a run back the way they had come, "Don't look back, whatever you do, don't look back!"

" _Food!"_ The snake hissed.

And Harry half tripped over his own feet as he turned to see the tip of its nose- Only to be yanked back around.

"If you look back you die! It's a Basilisk!"

"A what!?" Harry asked, running faster.

"Giant snake monster that can kill with its eyes!"

Harry didn't need to be told it was likely big enough to eat them with one bite if it caught them.

They ran.

But the snake came at them like a train and Harry started throwing back spells.

"Don't look back!" Theo warned, throwing his own spells over his shoulders.

One or three of their spells must have hit the ceiling because the next thing they knew the cave was collapsing.

They both leapt forward, sliding into a pile of bones on their stomachs where they had first entered.

When the rocks stopped falling, there was a silence so profound that all they could hear were their own heartbeats and ragged breathing.

And then they turned as one to see the Great Chamber of Secrets.

Somewhere beneath the rubble, there was a very dead Basilisk.

Harry was the first to start laughing, Theo glared at him, "That wasn't funny, we could have died."

Harry laughed harder until tears trailed down his face and then, almost hesitatingly, Theo began to laugh too.

For a time they were lost to laughter and the adrenaline crash that comes from being almost eaten by an ancient monster.

"How do we get out of here?" Harry asked.

Theo shouted up, "Myrtle! Tell the professors where we are!"

"Go die in a hole!" the ghost shrieked back.

"Well shite," Theo grumbled.

"Hedwig!" Harry called up the passage.

"Your owl can't hear you from down here, you ninny."

* * *

Minerva was losing her mind.

Not only were two of her students petrified, not only was the school shutting down with Albus brooding and Lockhart lecturing them on what _he_ supposedly could have done, but Severus had just informed them all that Theo and Harry had been missing all afternoon.

Her son was missing.

"Well, it figures it was Mr. Potter. He probably released the monster on poor Mr. Nott and run for the hills."

"Mr. Nott is a pureblood and Mr. Potter's best friend. There is no reason to suspect either would harm the other," Severus said through gritted teeth.

Minerva had to fight to keep her breathing steady.

"So what? Mr. Potter is unstable, he released pixies on me in my office and I'm convinced it's him who-"

Minerva had her wand at his throat, "Don't you dare. My son is missing _and_ another student, both only second years. They very likely have come to harm and if you do not _shut up_ , I am going to do you harm."

"Minerva," Albus said soothingly, "he has a point."

Severus lost his temper then, "What point? That a Slytherin student's life will always be worth less, that we are always to be mistrusted because it is our house that cultivates ambition? Headmaster, may I remind you that the absence of power does as much damage as too much. Mr. Potter would never have turned on Mr. Nott, the are Slytherin, they are _loyal_."

Albus met the younger wizard's eyes and said what Minerva never thought he would say in front of others. "You weren't."

The room froze, everyone but Lockhart having a notion as to what such a statement implied.

In all the years they had been in the Order together, Albus had never said an ill word against Severus. In fact, it was Albus's testimony that had given Severus his freedom.

But something had changed in Albus since Harry's sorting, since she had gone behind his back and adopted Harry.

It was as if some grand plan or his very world view had shattered.

Shattered in such a way that the old man was even more secretive, more aloof. He no longer confided in Minerva and Severus.

She didn't know if Albus confided in anyone at all these days. Which with someone of his intelligence, disposition, and lifetime of regrets, she knew to be poor for his health, maybe poor for everyone's health.

Severus let out a long breath, "I made mistakes, including judging Mr. Potter before I got to know him. But I know them better now. Albus, they are children, Hogwarts is their home, they would never endanger that or their friends, and Mr. Potter's case, his _mother's_ life. I doubt Mr. Potter even knew about the legend of the Chamber of Secrets before he stumbled upon it."

"He hurt my cat," Filch grumbled in the corner.

Minerva had had enough, she got up went for the door.

"Minerva, where are you going?" Albus asked.

"To find Mr. Nott and my son."

Filius and Severus joined her without another word.

Filius sighed, "I forget how far the war divided us."

"It didn't divide them, Filius," Minerva snarled, "It broke them."

Severus began asking portraits, but unhelpfully, the boys were both adept at using the secret passages and short cuts, so it was rather hard to discover which floor they had been on.

After two hours of searching a snowy owl flew toward them. Hedwig landed on Minerva's shoulder and bit her ear, hard.

"Ow!" She exclaimed, "I knew I should have gotten him a cat."

"Good thing you didn't," Severus said at her side, Filius having gone down to the dorms to check in with the students.

Severus was right because the owl seemed to be leading them toward where she thought Harry might be.

And sure enough…

"The girl's toilets?" Severus sounded downright scandalized.

"Harry!" She called, seeing Hedwig perched above a tunnel.

"Down here!" A voice called back to them from quite a distance down.

Severus cursed as Minerva jumped down the hole.

She landed on her feet easily.

Severus almost did as well, but couldn't quite stick the landing, stumbling forward to catch his balance.

"Are either of you hurt? Where have you been?" she demanded, pulling Harry into a crushing hug before either could answer.

"I'm fine, Mum," he reassured her.

Her heart constricted, it was the first time he had called her mum to her directly, though she knew that the majority of people referred to her as Harry's adoptive mother or simply Harry's mother.

The Daily Prophet had been quite 'interested' in hers and Malcolm's legal adoption of the Boy Who Lived.

The tabloids had quite convinced themselves that Harry had secretly been taken in by Malcolm directly after the fall of Voldemort.

And though she tried to be impartial with Hary in her classes and not play favourites, there was little she could do about how much time he spent in her classroom after her classes. He and Theo had haunted her classroom more often than they spent in the library or their common room.

Granted, that could be as much Harry wanting to avoid harassment as to spend time with her. No one stupid enough to tease or attempt to bully her son in her presence.

Which she supposed _was_ special treatment, because though she never tolerated bullying, she certainly had never encouraged any student to remain in her classroom or office without due cause. But Harry received so much odd attention from the rest of the wizarding world at large that pretending that he was a normal case seemed hypocritical.

"We found the Chamber of Secrets," Theo stated.

Harry pulled back from her, "And we found the monster."

"And we killed it," Theo said drily, "can we return to classes soon?"

Minerva watched Severus's left eye twitch, he asked in a low voice, "You did what?"

"We found the Chamber of Secrets, and we killed a Basilisk."

Minerva nearly squeezed the life out of Harry. "A what?"

"Basilisk," Theo repeated, pointing at the collapsed tunnels.

Severus rubbed his temples and Minerva squeezed Harry tighter yet until he squeaked, "Mum, air."

* * *

"It couldn't have been Hagrid," an unpetrified Hermione told Minister Fudge who had tried with Lucius Malfoy's help to unsuccessfully retire Albus Dumbledore.

Harry and Theo sat shoulder to shoulder on a hospital wing cot, watching the chaos unfold before them.

They had let Hermione take credit for solving the mystery, seeing as she had figured it out first, if not finding the exact location of the Chamber itself.

Hagrid was being cleared of all charges and given licence to have a wand again. Something Minerva had pressed for and new theories about who You Know Who were being spun from the Daily Prophet to the Quibbler.

"But who killed the roosters?" Hermione asked, "If you find out who killed Hagrid's roosters, you will know who set the Basilisk lose."

"Roosters?" Harry asked Theo.

"Basilisks aren't really born, they are created. Supposedly, a rooster's crow can kill it."

"So it really was more of a monster than a real animal."

"Harry, it lived for a thousand years underground, a creature that size… No, even a dragon would have starved to death. It isn't like it could have survived off rats, it was too big for that."

As Theo explained this to Harry, Hermoine was doing much the same to Minister Fudge.

"So we still have a madman on the loose?" Fudge said, turning to look at Harry.

Harry smiled at him and winked at Hermione, "Or madwoman."

Theo coughed and Hermione glared at them.

Fudge on the other hand just narrowed his eyes on Harry.

Minerva stepped in then, "Enough, Minister. We will keep track of what happens in our walls, but unless you have any further business."

"You will not always be there to shield him, Minerva," Fudge said self importantly.

She stepped toward him, her height further dwarfing the small many as he shrunk away from her, "Was a threat?"

Theo whispered to Harry, "She's my favourite Gryfindor."

Harry chuckled.

The minister and his flunkies left because when Minera McGonagall's anger was aroused, the only sane option was to leave.

* * *

The school saw Ms. Hermione Granger as the Hero of Hogwarts, and Gryfindor House won the house cup with the extra points she won them.

"Through intelligence, and not a small amount of bravery, Ms. Granger uncovered the mystery threatening everyone's safety," Headmaster Dumbledore said at the closing feast.

But Slytherin House wasn't impressed, especially when Mr. Nott told them about the location of the Chamber of Secrets which the Professors had closed over.

Additionally, no one was ever convicted of killing Hagrid's roosters.

Most suspected Mr. Potter on principle of his existence, but no logical suspect presented itself.

Leaving yet another mystery hanging over the Chamber of Secrets.

And no, my dearest readers, I, the Sorting Hat, can tell you with absolute certainty, it was not Ms. Ginerva Weasley, who had a simply wonderful first year at Hogwarts. Ms. Weasley remained an outgoing, tornado of a young lady, who was immediately popular, always seen at the centre of group friends laughing and smiling.

There was no weeping, withdrawn, and shy girl, you might be picturing. A girl whose crush on the Boy Who Lived, was quite dismissed after he was sorted into Slytherin like He Who Must Not Be Named.

So who was it? Who was it who released the Basilisk?

All I shall say on the subject is that Mr. Lucius Malfoy was not punished for ever having lost a diary.

Of course, no one this time around thought to check beneath Mr. Lucius Malfoy's floorboards.

* * *

AN: Year two :D Reactions, thoughts, ideas, wants, or California King Snakes? I'm partial to the black and white calkings. I would name mine Jersey after New Jersey dairy cows.


	9. Good Boy

AN: Surprise chapter!

Narration: The biggest complaint I usually get is that I'm not writing enough. I get that where I started the narration wouldn't work in writing a novel. I get it, _but_ this is flipping HP fanfiction, if the majority of you haven't read the books at least a dozen times and read hundreds of fanfics I would be surprised. I rarely get a chance to write 6th and 7th book and that is where I will buckle down and really write.

I am currently taking the important scenes and the main changes and trying to give them to you in none list form, but it is still a prequel to the story, not the story itself. If you want filler and meandering character development there other stories that quite enjoyable. I just don't feel like rewriting the books when I have better things to do.

Chapter 9 - Good Boy

Now, here is a story you all quite familiar with; that of Mr. Sirius Orion Black.

Except when Mr. Black goes to find Mr. Potter in the summer, it takes him a while longer to cross the terrain. And when he gets there…

Well, it wasn't a boy, unfed, unhappy, and running away from an abusive home with nothing but a trunk and his rage.

No, what Mr. Black found was a godson, smiling, strong, bright green eyes filled with laughter, and looking like a mirror image of his best friend.

His old mentor relaxed with her hair down, face soft with love and devious mischief as she used sleight of hand to swipe one of her brother's cards from under his nose.

It was an image that Mr. Black could have never imagined, and the cold bitterness, the regrets, and the pain that had kept him going gave way to something far worse; a wish to live.

What Mr. Black thought he had wanted most in this world was to get revenge against the rat that had stolen everything away from him.

But peeking in through the window, all he wanted was to be a part of his godson's life. To see the living piece of James and Lily grow into a man, touched by war but not destroyed by it.

That had been James's wish when Sirius had questioned him about having a child in the middle of a war.

"Even in the darkness, Sirius, there are stars. I have to believe that goodness will prevail, that after all this suffering, there will be something worth living for at the end. That's what this child is, he or she isn't just hope, they are all that matters."

Sirius hadn't understood that logic, he had been thrilled and a little scared about being named godfather. And Merlin knew, he had loved Harry with all his being when he came into the world. But Sirius had not understood the risk, the heartache, and the worry that having a child during a war would bring, planned or unplanned.

But standing here now, half starved, half mad, smelling like the wrong end of a drain, with no belongings, or legal freedom, or friends…

Standing here now, Sirius understood.

Harry was all that mattered, he was all that should have ever mattered.

And as if Harry felt his gaze, he turned, spotting the grim outside his window.

Those emerald green eyes widened, filling with concern just like his mother's had. He put down his cards and ran outside.

It happened too fast for Sirius, he stood frozen to the spot, thinking he should run but not wanting to.

"Hi, buddy, where did you come from?" Harry cooed to him, even his voice was an echo of James, though the tone was all his mother's.

It had been so long since Sirius had been greeted with a kind word and familiar face that had he been human, he would have broken down in tears.

As it was, he dropped to his stomach, putting his head down, trying to look less like a bad omen and more approachable.

Harry dropped to his knees, holding his hand out, palm out so Sirius could smell him.

"Harry, don't," Minerva cautioned, following behind.

Harry looked back at her, "He looks starved."

"Which is more of a reason not to touch him."

What had to be Minerva's brother came out with two bowls, he was careful to shut the door behind him to keep the other barking dogs inside. "Lucky we just made rice. The poor thing probably wants meat, but looking like that the rice will be kinder on him."

"You can't mean to keep him," she said, ever the voice of practicality.

"Oh come on, Minnie, it isn't like we get many strays, this is the first I've seen all the years I've lived here. If this one doesn't get on with Artemis and Apollo we can always take him to a shelter. I have a kennel if he isn't house trained."

And then the man, the man who had only to know that there was a lost dog at his door to get him food and water, put the two bowls down. "Here boy, come eat, it's alright, we won't hurt you."

"It could be a girl," Minerva noted.

"Here girl."

Sirius's stomach twisted, and he got to his paws to go the food. The rice was the best thing he had tasted in thirteen years, even watered down so it was warm rather than hot. He had to work hard not to scarf it down. The shame of being like this in front of his godson and mentor elevated only by the fact that they didn't know who he was.

Harry laughed, "Definitely a boy."

"What are you going to name him?" Minerva's brother asked.

"Didn't the goddess Artemis fall in love with a mortal archer? Orion right? To fit the theme."

Sirius paused at that, and looked up at his godson, _really, of all names?_

Harry smiled, misreading the look, "Orion it is."

Sirius would have growled, sure it was his middle name, but it was also, quite unfortunately, his father's name. But he was a good boy, so he couldn't growl at his godson.

"If it was a girl we could have named him Diana," Minerva's brother teased.

"I swear, Malcolm, if you-"

Sirius lost track of the conversation as he finished his meal, finishing by lapping up as much of the water as he could.

He didn't even flinch when he felt a cleaning spell wash over his fur. He looked up the two people who had taken his godson in, who were ready to take him in, and regretted the deceit, but he would be eternally grateful to them.

Harry petted his newly cleaned head, and Sirius all but purred like a cat.

Even if they returned him to Azkaban, he would go willingly into the Dementor's Kiss, now that he knew his mistakes hadn't damned Harry.

Not completely.

* * *

"So this is the new dog?" Theo asked, "He looks like a grim." He smiled then, "I think I saw Malfoy almost shit himself when he spotted him."

They were waiting on the train platform, they were both early as always, and Malcolm was in no rush to shoo them off.

"He's super well trained, and uber intelligent, well most of the time. He chases butterflies and dandelion fuzz like a spazzed chipmunk."

"He gets along with the other two?" Theo asked.

"They all get along, they sleep in a big puppy pile a lot of the time. But he won't go in any of the bedrooms. We think someone trained him harshly not go onto beds, but then he will push all of us off the couch, no problem."

"Sounds like a guard dog," Theo remarked, "the other two are sheepdogs, right?"

"That's right," Malcolm said, "This one doesn't even need the leash, the ones at home would have been panicking about the sounds of the train and the people."

And Orion was very alert, ears perked, eyes scanning the crowd as if he were checking faces. He sat at attention, the image ruined when he stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth like a dope.

Grim indeed.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "Artemis and Apollo would want to befriend them all."

Knowing better than to ask directly how Theo's summer had gone, and besides, they had been exchanging letters throughout, he asked instead, "Pick up anything extra while school shopping?"

Theo nodded, "I picked up three extra books, two on Magical Creatures and one on Arithmancy to Alchemy. My father never checks the reading list so he didn't notice."

Malcolm raised a brow, "Alchemy isn't taught until the sixth year."

"Yeah," Theo agreed, "But I talked to the professor at the end of last year, and she said she hasn't taught it in three years because there hasn't been a demand for it. At least five students in a single grade have to be interested in it. I thought I could read through it, make some notes, brag about it in front of Malfoy, and then let Granger borrow it."

"And if Hermione reads it, she will get Susan into it."

Theo nodded, "You, me, Malfoy, Granger, and Bones. Five."

"I think we can do better than Malfoy," Harry argued.

"Who else would commit?"

"I don't know, Blaise might, maybe one of the Ravenclaws? The Patil one perhaps."

Malcolm was shaking his head, "You two are plotting for a class that is three years out?"

Harry and Theo looked at him, and said in unison, "Of course, we need time for a backup plan."

Malcolm sighed, "Slytherins."

Orion sneezed in lament.

"Didn't you need Alchemy for your career?" Theo asked.

Malcolm nodded, "I did indeed and I had a number of nerdish friends in different houses who were also interested. But back then our professor advertised alchemy with fireworks. Fireworks that have now since been deemed illegal."

"That bad?" Harry asked.

The older wizard grinned, "Let's just say we nearly brought down Gryffindor tower."

Theo huffed, "Gryffindors, you guys never think it through."

Malcolm's jade eyes sparkled, "Are you saying you wouldn't bring down a tower if you had what amounted to an abundance of magical dynamite?"

Theo's smile could have been described as roughish, "If I had magical dynamite, the tower would have _actually_ come down, but it wouldn't have been my stuff falling into valley, seeing as the Slytherin dorms aren't in a tower."

Malcolm laughed appreciatively.

"Mr. McGonagall," a cultured voice drawled.

They turned to find the Malfoy trio, and Malcolm being Malcolm, greeted them warmly, "Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Malfoy, a pleasure."

Mrs. Malfoy offered her hand to be kissed.

There was something about the ice woman that Harry didn't hate, maybe because he had spent enough time around Daphne to know a great portion of the ice was an act. A master of civility and wizarding culture, equal parts unnecessary and impressive.

Theo was still trying to couch him through pure-blood culture, and Harry was of the firm belief that if there was a muggle-studies there should be a pure-blood studies, and maybe the two ought to be taught together so everyone could start to see how big that divide was.

Sometimes, Harry felt like the wizarding world was a sub country to the UK.

"So rare that you are out in public these days," Narcissa remarked.

"I see you are wearing my piece, I can update it for you if you like, free of charge. It doesn't look like it needs much polish, but I can extend the charm."

Narcissa nodded, and undid the broach on her robe and passed it over.

Malcolms fingers checked it over and hummed, "I'll have it to you by the end of the week."

"What is it?" Draco asked.

"A gift," Narcissa said, "One your father had made for me when we became pregnant with you."

Harry always thought that odd phrasing. _She_ was the one who had carried a child, but he supposed 'we' implied commitment and a joint endeavour.

He tried really hard to suppress a blush and _not_ think that thought through.

Minerva had given him 'the talk' this summer, in painful, excruciating detail.

When he asked why Malcolm couldn't have been the one to tell him, she had said, 'When you think of experimenting, son, I want you to remember my words. I want you to remember that I was young once. You must respect your partners.'

Harry didn't think he would have 'partner' anytime soon. In fact, he was pretty sure experimenting was the last thing he ever wanted to do with her descriptions in his head.

Which was exactly why she had explained it the way she had.

Theo had written him back to his panicked letter, saying he laughed his butt off for the rest of that evening.

"Our sons seemed to have tied for second rank in their year," Narcissa was saying.

"Right after Ms. Granger," Theo pointed out, completely straight-faced, tone bored, "She's the brains of the generation apparently."

Harry swallowed hard in an attempt to not laugh at the lemon sucked look on Lucius's face and Draco's mortified expression.

Theo liked yanking on tiger tails.

But Narcissa was unruffled, turning the remark on Theo, "I didn't see your name in the rankings, Mr. Nott, your father must be concerned."

Harry watched something deaden in Theo's gaze, "My father doesn't concern himself with much, but yours is appreciated."

"Surely Mr. Potter is an excellent tutor?"

Theo shrugged, "Potter talks in circles, he's better at listening. Besides, my grades are fine, I just slept through the history of magic exam last year."

Harry kept his mouth shut on that one, because what he had actually done is written his name as Milicent because the girl had had a mental break in the common room before the exam, saying that her grandmother was going to kill her if she failed History of Magic.

Mili's grandmother made Neville Longbottom's grandmother sound like an angel.

In turn, Mili had written Theo's name with his permission, she had honestly tried and ultimately failed to pass.

"It looks ill for a boy of your family to not do well in History of Magic," Lucius noted.

Theo shrugged, "I don't need History to become an Auror."

Lucius's pale brows shut up, "You wish to become an Auror?"

Theo shrugged, "Shacklebolt's career is doing pretty well, and he was the first Head Boy from Slytherin house in nearly two decades."

"Auror Shacklebolt is a credit to us all," Narcissa said, cutting off whatever remark Lucius was about to make.

Harry felt out of his depths trying to follow the politics, but a part of him worried what would get back to Theo's dad from this conversation.

The whistle blew and their group parted. Malcolm hugged both Harry and Theo who returned the hug awkwardly.

Orion jumped on his back paws to swipe a lick across Harry's cheek. Laughing, he pushed the dog away and took hold of his trunk.

He had just turned to follow the stragglers onto the train when he heard Malcolm shout, " _Orion!"_

And then a boy was shouting and his mother started shrieking.

Harry and Theo turned to the scene unfolding.

Orion had pulled free of Malcolm's grip, his leash trailing behind, and he had knocked the gangly Ronald Weasley to the ground.

They watched as the moving lump riggled under Weasley's clothes and then a rat made a mad rush toward the train.

But the black dog was quicker, snatching the rodent up in his jaws. He crunched down and shook the thing like a squeaky toy.

As Malcolm took up the leash, Orion deliberately threw the small carcass onto the tracks.

If the bite and shake hadn't killed it, the fall the tracks certainly had.

Theo and Harry made toward the drama just as Weasley's face turned colours and he began what could only be called wailing.

Malcolm was apologizing profusely as Orion barked and wagged his tail, as if waiting for a treat for doing a good thing.

Seeing the misery on Weasley's face, Harry casually reached into his pocket for a chocolate cookie from the bag he had been planning to share with Theo.

Malcolm was busy enough trying to give Mrs. Weasley money for a new pet as she tried to shut her son up and refuse the offer, that Malcolm didn't notice Orion scarfing the cookie down.

Ron's complaining changed to rage when he saw Harry put a hand on the dog's head, "That monster is yours!?"

"He is indeed, and clearly, he well versed in identifying vermin," Theo said in such a pleasant tone that Mrs. Weasley didn't register what he had said, but his twin brothers did and they boarded the train chortling, their little sister caught between them.

The oldest Weasley there, the Prefect sniffed, " _Clearly_ , your mutt needs to be taught control."

Harry scratched Orion behind the ear, "Nah, I think he's perfect the way he is."

Orion yipped in agreement, wagging his tail like he was trying to dust the ground.

"Enough," Mrs. Weasley said, finally taking the money Malcolm had convinced her to take, "Ron, that's enough. Some dogs are trained to kill pests, he didn't hurt you, and he doesn't look out of control. Mr. McGonagall has kindly apologized and I'll be getting a family owl, much more useful than a rat."

"But Mum! Scabbers was mine."

"He was Percy's. He was also old, fat, and sickly. You can name the owl. Now, all of you, get on that train before it departs. I love you!"

Malcolm pulled Harry into another hug, Orion between them, and then he and Theo were running to get on the train.

Theo was laughing as the train lurched into motion.

Most of the compartments were already full and the Weasleys had seemed to slip into the last free ones.

"His face," Harry said, grinning.

"No, his face when he saw you feed Orion the cookie, _that face_. Oh, my Merlin, Potter, don't ever change."

They got to the end of the train, and decided to just try one, and found Neville and Hermione with her cat, and a homeless man asleep across from them.

"Bones?" Theo asked by way of greeting.

"She's with her housemates," Hermione whispered, she scooted down further on the bench seat beside Neville, "There's room."

"Who's the squatter?" Theo asked, not in a loud voice but not in a whisper either.

Hermione looked at the man's bag, "R. L. Lupin."

"Bet he's the new DADA," Harry said, putting his trunk up beside Theo's. Hedwig's cage he put between his feet.

She hooted at him, and Hermione's cat paid her no mind.

"He was in the Order," Theo said.

"In the what?" she asked.

"You shouldn't know about that," Neville hissed.

Theo smirked, "There was a spy numskull, that's why everyone in the Order got picked off, including yours and Harry's parents."

"Spy?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

Neville just glared.

"The Order of the Phoenix," Theo said, "My dad rants about them _all_ the time. Dumbledore got a personal army together to do vigilante justice against the Death Eaters. But they screwed up, they had a spy among them or spies. Though truthfully both sides had spies."

"Wait, so the Dark Lord got to my family because of a spy?" Harry asked.

"You call him 'the Dark Lord'?" Neville asked, sounding hurt.

"Sirius Black," Theo answered, "Didn't Minerva tell you that?"

"She told me he was my godfather and that he might be after me. But I didn't know about the Order of the Phoenix or that Black didn't just betray us personally but an entire group. I'm sorry, Neville, about your parents."

"It was the Lestranges and Crouch, not Black who attacked them," he answered with a thread of steel in his voice.

Harry was pretty sure he would be an impressive sort of person once he lost the baby fat in his cheeks.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, was a Black, Sirius's cousin, Narcissa's sister, well one of them," Theo lectured Harry.

"Is everyone in the wizarding world related?"

"I think you have a great aunt who was a Black," Theo said cheerily.

Harry sighed, "Clearly, we need more muggle-borns."

Hermione smiled at him, "Thanks, Harry."

"Or less procreation," Theo countered.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Do you know of any other spies?" Harry asked.

"Snape, maybe, but I couldn't say whether or not he was a double agent or a triple agent. My father hates his guts. Snape was very good at Occlumency, so good that both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord, known Legilimens, trusted him, trusted him absolutely."

Hermione gaped at him, "Professor Snape was a Death Eater?"

"What the hell is Occlumen, or legimens?" Harry asked.

Neville answered, "Mind arts like mind reading, but more complicated because minds are way more complex than brains."

"I feel like there needs to be a class on Wizarding Cultures."

"Pure-Blood Studies," Harry agreed, "Learn illogical society rules and magic laws conveniently left out of core classes."

"I'm taking Muggle-Studies," Hermione said, "I want to see how they teach it."

"You know Granger, you wouldn't have done terribly in Slytherin," Theo remarked.

"He meant that as a compliment," Harry translated, "It goes against his nature to say something positive. He's a very bleak sort of fellow."

Hermione looked like she couldn't decide if he was joking or not.

Theo grabbed Harry's wrist.

"What?" he asked.

"Windows."

They all looked and as the watched the glass began to frost over, the temperature dropping.

"What's happening?" Hermione asked as the train stopped, the lights going off.

"Something's in the hall," Theo murmured, reaching across Harry to the door and turning his wrist to release his wand.

Harry wasn't that fast at getting his own wand as the door snapped open, the lock not slowing the figure at all.

And it was like the life began to drain from him, and he heard a woman's voice screaming for him.

He only dimly felt Theo dragging him back, Hedwig shrieking as her cage tipped, and Theo shouting, "Dementors!"

Harry came to as Theo dropped him to the ground, reaching for the R.L. Lupin's bag to hurl it at the 'Dementor.'

As he was on the floor, Harry had an excellent view of the awakening vagabond getting hit in the head with his own bag as the cloaked thing shrieked at having something thrown _through_ it.

 _Harry! No, not Harry! Take me! Take me instead! Not Harry!_

 _Step aside, you silly girl-_

The screaming didn't stop in Harry's mind, but he tried to sit up as the man staggered to his feet, a streak of silver chasing the figure away.

The voices faded, but Harry didn't want it to, the woman, he knew her, he needed to remember her, to know her.

But he couldn't remember.

The moustached silver-spell-wielder bent down and handed him a bar of chocolate, "All of you, eat some of that, it will make you feel better. I need to check the other students."

Harry blinked up at him, then blinked at his retreating back and the compartment door shutting.

Harry murmured the locking charm, and the lock clicked shut.

 _Look at that,_ he thought almost drunkenly, _no wand._

Theo pulled Harry up into a seat as Hermione righted Hedwig's cage.

"Did you hear screaming?"

Neville and Hermione looked at each other, concern clear on their expressions, but it was Theo's response that concerned Harry most.

In an extremely un-Theo-like action, he pulled Harry into a hug, and said so only he could understand, "I hear my mother too."

Harry's heart dropped.

 _His mother_.

Not Minerva, but Lily Potter.

The woman who had literally given her life for his.

 _Harry! No, not Harry! Take me!_

 _Take me instead!_

He couldn't say if it was a blessing or a curse to remember.

To have his only memory of her be _that_.

But still, to hear her, to have a memory of her, any memory...

Theo pulled back, taking the chocolate from Harry and passing it around.

The chocolate helped.

But not enough, not enough by half.

* * *

AN: Reactions, thoughts, ideas, hopes, dreams, or coupons for pet store serpents?


	10. A Year in the Life of Malcolm McGonagall

AN: Three more years to go before we get into the meat of the story. Here are the important bits with more experimental writing styles :D

WARNING: Gore warning. Also future warnings for child abuse, domestic abuse, and general crap that I explore a bit deeper than the books do. Still appropriate for an American Teen.

Beta: Ahrnberg the Great.

Chapter 10 - A Year in the Life of Malcolm McGonagall as Understood by His Dog

Meanwhile back on the platform…

"Lucius?" Narcissa called, leaning forward, having spotted something on the tracks.

He turned back, and leaned a bit forward, "Oh my."

Sirius grimaced internally. Had he thought through killing Wormtail fully, well, he might not have killed him.

But the damage was done. He did his best to be an ignorant, loyal canine.

Malcolm also looked onto the tracks, and Sirius his long exhalation of breath.

Molly looked and let out an earsplitting scream.

Sirius went to Malcolm's side, pressing against his leg as he gazed at the bastard who had betrayed them, the ex-friend's whose remains were now an indefinable scarlet ruin across the tracks.

Bits of flesh, bones, and limbs looking like so much roadkill.

"Madame Bones!" Lucius called out, the crowd parting to reveal the formability witch who had just seen off her niece.

She marched to tracks, looked down, took a deep breath, then said, "Well shite." She pulled her wand, likely hit some sort of warning system and de-activated the portal to Muggle train station.

"Nobody leaves! You are all currently a part of a murder investigation," she said as several pops announced the presence of additional Aurors.

Groans went up through the crowd of parents who had lingered to watch the tail of the train depart.

Among them, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Rufus Scrimgeour, Alastor Moody, and a young girl who reminded Sirius of his cousin Andromeda, until her hair turned white when she looked at the train tracks.

A metamorphmagus.

Sirius had to restrain himself from flinching away from the group, Scrimgeour in particular.

It had been such a gift to see Harry again. This summer had been a dream and he wasn't ready to return to a life of nightmares.

But even if the rat had been still alive, no one would have given him, a Black, a chance to speak, not when he had turned his back on the pure bloods, not when he would forever be seen as a Slytherin by the rest.

Blacks were Slytherin, period.

His sorting into Gryffindor had been a plot to kill the Potters. It didn't matter how little sense that story made. Their community wasn't all that attached to logic on principal.

It was probably why two dark lords had risen to such heights in a single century despite the two wars nearly halving their population.

"Did anyone see a body on the tracks?" Bones was asking.

Malcolm spoke up, "My dog caught one of the Weasley children's pet rat. He threw it on the tracks."

"An animagus!" the metamorphmagus girl exclaimed excitedly.

"Tonks," Mad-Eye growled, "Murder investigation."

"Right, sorry."

 _Tonks,_ Sirius thought, so she was Andromeda's daughter. Merlin, she had grown up. Just another reminder about how much he had missed.

Andromeda would probably spit at him if she saw him now.

And then the questions started. And the crowd settled in, watching the chaos unfold like a muggle TV special. Those talented enough conjured chairs, the muggles among them gawking as some pulled tea sets out of extended bags.

These were magical British citizens, many of whom came from families that considered themselves royalty.

Tea and biscuits were never far from reach.

Most of the crowd had seen, 'Mr. McGonagall's dog pounce on the Weasley boy and kill the vermin.'

No one seemed to particularly care about the rat. And as 'Orion' (Merlin, how Sirius hated being called by _that_ name) was maybe a partially magical dog, no one saw it as strange that the dog would hunt vermin.

Magical dogs tended to be bred to act like cat-dogs or horse-dogs. Either some type of monster or beasts of burden.

Thankfully, the Aurors lost interest in 'Orion' very quickly. It never crossed their minds that Sirius Black might be an animagus like the dead body on the tracks seemed to have been.

Though, Sirius supposed, if they all thought he wanted to kill Harry, and then a dog who had been with him all summer...

It was still lucky that no one, Malcolm included, thought about the coincidence of Sirius Black's escape and the appearance of an emancipated Orion.

Molly was growing increasingly hysterical, "You can't really mean that my sons' pet was a wizard, a man, a stranger staying-" Her voice broke off.

And Sirius wanted to kill the bastard again.

Kingsley leapt back onto the platform. As he had been helping to collect body parts, his boots were bloody.

"He was definitely an animagus. The damn fool wasn't registered either."

"Registered?" Molly asked.

"If an animagus dies in animal form, the magic disrupts the blood magic used to identify unidentifiable bodies. We have no way of knowing who this was, there just isn't enough left of him. One essential reason why registration is important."

"Perhaps it was Sirius Black," this from Scrimgeour.

Sirius tensed, he couldn't help it. Scrimgeour had used his power over prisoners in the upper tiers without mercy.

Malcolm's hand brushed over his head, a soothing touch that Sirius leaned into.

"Impossible, didn't you hear Mrs. Weasley?" Bones's no-nonsense voice, "That rat has been with them for years."

"Thirteen," Molly said, almost to herself in horror, "thirteen, right, not long after You-Know-Who was defeated."

"Well, that confirms it," Kingsley said, before turning to the crowd, "You can all leave now."

Bones, trusting her lieutenant, waved her wand, opening the exit.

The Malfoys were the first to turn to that exit.

"Not you," Mad-Eye growled, "The two of you, Mr. McGonagall and his dog, and Mrs. Weasley, we request that you stay here."

The way he said request, made it clear, it was no request at all.

They waited for the crowd to pick up and leave. Scrimgeour going back to scrounging through body parts on the tracks.

Bones turned on Kingsley, "Well?"

Kingsley pulled a twisted ash white wand from his sleeve.

The Malfoys went very still, and Sirius had sickening suspicious as to what it was.

The wand that had killed his friends, his family, scared little Harry so bad that he was known for that tiny lightning bolt.

Known for the very motion of death.

"You-Know-Who's wand, and we found an arm with a Dark Mark."

Tonks caught Mrs. Weasley around the waist as she lost her footing.

Scrimgeour was frowning at the wand, "But we caught all the Death Eaters," he turned a nasty expression on Lucius, "or, at least, we accounted for them all."

"It can't be Sirius Black," Bones asserted. "It was before my time, does anyone remember what he said at his trial about that wand? Seeing as it wasn't found at Godric's Hollow, surely the court questioned him on it.  
Surprisingly, it was Narcissa who spoke for him, "My cousin didn't have a trial. His guilt was assumed, which was foolish."

Scrimgeour sneered at her, "Your whole family is rot. Sirius Black was as much traitor as he is scum."

"Hey," this from Tonks, "I'm half Black."

Scrimgeour looked down his nose at her, "Your mother is a reforme-"

Narcissa had her wand out at him, and three more were on her.

"My sweet," Lucius cautioned his wife, "breathe."

Sirius watched his cousin closely, Cissa had always been close to Bellatrix, and they had been girls. He hadn't had all that much interest in them. Growing up, Andromeda had been the only one to entertain his acts of rebellion, but watching his youngest cousin now, the one he had assumed to be the perfect little pure blood, he thought maybe he had judged her wrongly.

Narcissa had married a Death Eater, but unlike Bella and Reggie, she hadn't become one herself.

"Enough," Bones said, "this is unfortunate, as well as unlawful. Mr. Black, despite his crimes, deserved a trial before a lifetime sentence."

"He earned it," Scrimgeour pushed.

"How do we know that?" she asked, "We now have an unknown Death Eater with the Dark Lord's wand. Which meant a Death Eater, in addition to Mr. Black, was there that night, had access to orphaned Harry Potter, and just took the wand."

"Wait," Tonks said, "two Death Eaters, one unprotected baby, and both chose to spare the baby when they must have known He Who Must Not Be Named needed Harry Potter dead for some unknown reason, and we didn't question the one guy who might have had answers within the thirteen years that we could have questioned him?"

Oh, what might have been, had someone thought to ask these questions then.

"He wasn't a Death Eater," Lucius said suddenly.

Sirius looked at him, shocked.

Mad-Eye scowled at him, "Oh, now you're willing to speak. Mr. Imperiused."

Lucius's look was all high lord superioress, "Not the Imperius, he threatened my family, my son."

"You should have fought back."

"Sirius Black was not a Death Eater. The Dark Lord wanted him, him and James Potter both. But they denied him. James Potter said no to his face thrice. There was nothing subtle about Black, he would have made a terrible spy, for anyone who met him, impulse control wasn't among his qualities."

No one argued with that.

Sirius hated each and every one of them for not speaking up sooner.

Hated Dumbledore for not knowing this, damn them all for damning him with their silence.

"So, if Sirius Black wasn't a Death Eater, was Peter Pettigrew really the hero of the story?" Tonks asked.

"He certainly fit the description of a rat," Moody grumbled, his eye lit up with the idea, "It would make-"

Sirius was starting to think he should shift and proclaim his innocence, maybe, just maybe he could get a word out before they stunned him.

But Moody had cut off because an alarm was going off on his lapel.

"What's that?" Tonks asked.

"The Hogwarts Express," Scrimgeour explained as Bones, Kingsley, and Moody disapparated, "Has been attacked."

Lucius grabbed Scrimgeour by the caller, "Where is the train?"

Narcissa disapparated as did Malcolm, apparently they were willing to make an educated guess as to where the train was.

Sirius couldn't have, it had been too long, and happy memories of the train were too far from him to reach.

He would probably have splinched himself on the bridge on the tree.

Lucius dropped the Auror on the tracks. A bone broke on the merciless man's impact, and Sirius was glad for his pain.

One pop later, and only Sirius and Tonks remained at King's Cross station.

She came to him, holding her hand out to him just as Harry had. He gave it sniff, and when she knelt to pet him, he licked her across the cheek in the universal doggy hello.

She laughed, a beautiful and free sound.

Andromeda had never laughed like that.

"You're a good boy, killing Death Eaters who pretend to be children's pet rats."

He wagged his tail, trying to suppress the despair threatening to overcome him.

The train was under attack, Harry was on that train.

"Who knows what my mum is going to say about all this. She was heartbroken about what her cousin had done."

Sirius whined.

"You know what's worse?" she asked rhetorically, rubbing his ears with both hands, "If Sirius Black is out there, innocent, he still couldn't come forward."

Sirius went very still, _does she know?_

"Because people like Scrimgeour, like Fudge, would arrange an accident. He would get the Dementor's Kiss before he could get a trial. The Ministry made a mistake, and they will bury that mistake, which means burying him if they can."

Sirius rested his jaw in her palms, her eyes turning a deep brown just like Andromeda's, "That's why I am trying to become an Auror. That's why we need more people like Amelia and Kingsley, people to outweigh the bad, the corruption. I want to live in a world where the truth means more than money or re-electability.

"Truth should make people uncomfortable," she stated, resting her head against his, "because the truth hurts, one way or another."

Sirius closed his eyes, and knew she was right.

Maybe one day he could be free, one day be a person again. A godfather who could jump to Harry's rescue.

But today was not that day.

* * *

Sirius waited with Tonks for what felt like days, but what was really hours.

Malcolm apparated in, grabbed Sirius by the scruff of his neck and apparated back home.

The wizard was furious, when they landed, the abruptness doing nothing good to his tormented origins.

"Dementors on the train!"

Sirius whined.

 _Harry!_

"And of course! They went right for Harry. He almost blacked out! And the new DADA professor was there, _SLEEPING!"_

Malcolm was pacing and ranting, Sirius had never seen him lose control like this, "Minnie, oh Merlin. Her face, that Lupin fellow isn't going to have to worry about that curse getting him.

"I suppose it was a good thing he was there. The Dementor got far too close, but he should not have been asleep around children. I know his condition, but he was friends with James, Minnie would have helped him if he had asked for help."

Sirius blinked, _Remus is the new DADA professor at Hogwarts?_

Dumbledore must have been reminded of him with news of this summer.

"And Harry was shook, I hope he sends a letter soon. He doesn't confide in Minerva as he should. Which I understand, we try, Merlin knows we try, but it never seems enough. One day, I pray, Harry looks at us without that flinching. Without that fear that he might make some mistake that would have us turn on him, throw him out."

Sirius had noticed that too, recognised that look in his godson's face, a look he had never once spotted on Lily or James's face, one he had seen often enough in the mirror.

"Damn those muggles, those Dursleys. Did Harry tell you, Orion, did he tell you they kept him in a cupboard? His room was a dark little closet under the stairs. It is a miracle Minerva didn't do something-"

Sirius's ears were ringing, _the Dursleys?_

No, that couldn't be right, Lily hated them, surely…

Had Sirius known that's what Dumbledore had intended, he never would have trusted Hagrid.

Guilt choked him.

He must have been whining or whimpering, or something, because Malcolm dropped to his knees on the rug, pulling Sirius half on his lap.

"Shhh, shhh, there's a good boy, I'm not mad at you. You were brilliant today. Not many people can say their pet grim kills Death Eaters disguised as rats, can they? Harry will be home for Christmas. Harry's okay. We're all family, we are going to make it through. You'll see, you're a good boy, Orion. There's a good boy."

Sirius slumped, letting himself being comforted even though he really, truly didn't deserve it.

It was his fault Harry had been orphaned, gone to live with the Dursleys, his fault Harry had been attacked by Dementors.

Azkaban was starting to look like a well derserved fate after all.

oOo

"Harry seems to be no fan of the new DADA professor."

Sirius looked up, his ears straight.

Malcolm grinned at him, "Harry figured out he's a werewolf pretty fast. Little Severus taught a class while he was out sick, a class on werewolves. Smart boy."

Sirius whined, _Severus Snape is a professor at Hogwarts? Really, Albus, really?_

"Of course, that doesn't matter to Harry. Minerva and Dumbledore successfully got the Dementors off the school grounds after they attacked Harry on the Quidditch pitch."

Sirius whined louder.

"Oh shush, Harry's more upset about losing to Cedric Diggory than nearly dying, again."

On that particular day, Minerva had sent a howler, not to yell at her brother, but to vent.

He had sent her one back.

Sirius had been on edge until Malcolm had read Harry's letter about how he was well and how much he disliked being confined to the hospital wing.

And a very, very long complaint about losing a match to Hufflepuff.

"Hear this, Orion:

'Malcolm, I just don't understand him. If he really was my dad's friend, one of his best friends, why did he never reach out? I get that he isn't rich, and he looks like he has been through some stuff, but he could have at least sent a Christmas card or something.

'He's a fine teacher. I have the Patronus down, which I could tell you about, but I would rather show you once I get home.

"Here he drew a smiley face. Smug, I would characterize it. My humble boy is getting some sails lined up," Malcolm interrupted himself before continuing.

'Theo hates him. Let's just say that Slytherin's boggart class didn't go well. I didn't write about earlier because I figure if you were half as mad as Minerva you didn't need any more "great" news. I mean you didn't seem angry on the train but I know you hide stuff.

'Anyway, Daphne, Tracy, Draco had gone first, they all have normalish fears. Then Grabbe and Goyle, who are afraid of the dark which the boggart imitated as black mist, not really that scary, but then Pansy went up, and suddenly there was a body on the ground. Mili stepped up before anyone could see who it was, aside from Pansy of course, and it turned into her mother with her wand raised, Blaise stepped in front of her, and then it was his mother.

'Lupin was all like picture her in something funny.

'But it wasn't funny. Mili's mum had this scar down her cheek and her eyes were… she was mad, Malcolm, not angry, but _mad_ , crazy like Uncle Vernon got when we got home from the zoo, but different.'

Malcolm paused, "The zoo? Did Harry tell you about the zoo, Orion?"

Sirius sneezed in response. He liked being talked to, even if various people baby talked to him, but sometimes it was frustrating not to be able to answer or ask his own questions.

Harry had chatted to him a lot over the summer, but mostly about Quidditch and school work. Theories he was forming about the magic that his friend Theo would have torn apart.

But now Sirius really wanted to know about the zoo. Hell, he wanted to know more about Harry's early life. Even to 'Orion' and the other two dogs, Harry never spoke about the Dursleys.

Apollo head-butted Sirius shoulder, and he rubbed against the herding dog like a cat.

Artemis and Apollo had both figured out that Sirius was human. They didn't seem to mind though, they were dogs, dogs liked humans.

Malcolm continued to read, "Blaise stepped up before Mili's mum could do anything. Blaise's mum was beautiful, but her eyes were so, so cold.

'I stepped forward before Blaise's mum did anything unfortunate, but as it turned out the last thing anyone wanted was Dementor after having to face their worst fears.'

Here Malcolm sucked in a sharp breath, "Harry's worst fear is Dementor?"

 _Only thing to fear is fear itself._

It was the common idea of being afraid of a Dementor, but Sirius had spent so long with them that he knew different.

Harry wasn't afraid of fear, he was afraid of himself, his own regrets.

Because that's what Dementors did, they brought out the worst in you and held you in that inexorable bit of misery.

But what could he possibly regret at thirteen almost fourteen?

Harry was a good kid, had the Dursleys done something to him or was it something Sirius was missing about his godson?

"In hindsight," Malcolm went on, "it was good thinking Theo skipped class. It was our first day of class, but Neville's boggart being Snape in his grandmother's dress and vulture hat had spread far and wide before we had DADA.

'Theo stated the day he let the world know he willingly shared the greatest fear with the school was the day he went Death Eater and murdered everything.

'Lupin got the boggart under control, and like Grabbe and Goyle's fear, the moon, in and of itself isn't that scary as representation. It was the quietest our class has ever been. I don't think any of us said a word until Flitwick decided to teach us Cheering Charms three days later.

'Mili fell asleep in her chair, she hadn't been sleeping well I guess.

'Hermione was jealous because typically Cheering Charms aren't taught until the fifth year.

'Anyway, things have calmed down lately. People, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs mainly, are still jumpy about 'Sirius Black' but everyone else is just happy the Dementors are gone.

'I'm excited about Christmas. I haven't asked Minerva yet, but do you think maybe Theo can come home with me for break?

'Hope you and the crazy puppies are well.

'Much Love,

Harry.'

"Of course, Theo can join," Malcolm said aloud to Sirius.

Sirius yipped in approval.

How disappointing to learn what had become of Remus. And what a turn for Harry to be in Slytherin, it still boggled him.

It would have driven James quietly crazy, though Lily would have likely beaten it out of him before Christmas of Harry's first year.

And oddly, Harry seemed to belong there. Sirius had grown up with the worst side of Slytherin, but he knew, logically, that Slytherins weren't all power hungry scumbags, knew that at their core, they were survivalists.

And on a good day survivalists with loyalties would go to extreme lengths to keep their loved ones safe, no matter the cost.

Which was a huge reason Sirius hadn't been sorted into his family's house. More than not wanting to be there, he wanted not to be in Slytherin so badly that he had risked not only his safety but his sanity.

Risking his mother's fury to be a rebel, even if it hurt his little brother, was about the least Slytherin thing he could have done.

Harry seemed to be flourishing in the house of snakes.

Secretly, as all of Sirius thoughts were, he thought that Harry was changing Slytherin, leading it bit by bit toward something that was worthy of being proud of.

James probably wouldn't have shared that thought, not without help. Slytherin was a complicated assortment of people. Something apparently, Remus didn't understand either.

Sirius could have told his old friend to never make a young class of Slytherins face off with a boggart.

A decade or two ago, Miss Pancy wouldn't have been the only one who was afraid of a body on the ground.

oOo

"Orion, calm down," Malcolm chided.

Sirius was prancing on his paws. Minerva was bringing Harry home soon for Christmas.

Sirius began to hop in the snow in direct contradiction.

This got Apollo and Artemis going, who began to hop in the snow as if they were looking for toys.

There were toys in the front yard.

Toys under about three feet of snow.

Malcolm sighed loudly as the three of them began to trample all the freshly fallen snow.

Artemis found one toy, a poor half frozen frog, which she brought to Sirius instead of Malcolm.

Sirius picked the stuffed frog up between his teeth, twisted his head as he threw it.

Artemis ran barking, Apollo running after before crashing into her.

He had much more fun frustrating his sibling than playing fetch.

Sirius sat back to watch the chaos he had orchestrated, Malcolm patted his head, "Orion, you are a hundred percent Harry's dog."

Sirius let his tongue lull out in an approximation of a grin.

And then Minerva popped into the clearing with Harry and Theo.

Harry ran to give Malcolm a hug, the big man lifting him in a tight squeeze. And once he was put down, Harry turned to give Sirius a hug. He wished he were human so he could give him a bear hug too.

And then Artemis and Apollo charged them both.

Harry grunted as the two dogs hopped on him.

Theo walked by him shaking his head.

"Theo, this Apollo and Artemis."

Theo's response was succinct as he entered the warm house, "No."

Sirius barked, grabbing the boy his sleeve and pulling him unceremoniously into a snow pile from where Malcolm had cleared the walk.

"Damnit, Potter!"

Harry's laughter filled the night, and a snowball fight ensued.

Artemis and Apollo chasing every projectile, Sirius jumping in front of snow balls meant for Theo and Harry as the adults turned on them.

Minerva, as Sirius had always known, had a wicked streak when it came to winning games.

oOo

When they were all warm and dry before the fire without hot-coco, Malcolm requested to see Harry's Patronous.

Theo muttered something uncharitable, as Harry's spell leapt from his wand.

A graceful buck pranced around the room, proud, mighty, and filled with life.

A creature that lived for the moment.

Sirius was left shaken on the carpet, cold down to his bones, despite the two furballs pressed to his side and the fire blazing behind them.

He couldn't hear what was being said, as he staggered to his feet, going to the door, scratching to be let out.

Minerva let him out, her hand petting his head and back, "Good boy, come back soon, it's cold out there."

Sirius ran, ran as deep into the woods as could manage.

He shifted to his human form for the first time since leaving Azkaban.

He held onto tree, his fingers digging into the bark. His thread bear prison uniform did little to protect him against the elements.

But he didn't care.

He had thought he had mourned James and Lily. He had to relive finding their bodies often enough. He also thought, believed, that somehow Peter's death would have made him feel better.

That in Wormtail getting what he deserved, in avenging them all, it would be better.

But James and Lily were dead.

They were gone, and they weren't coming back.

The first tears choked out of him as he had swallowed a fish hook and it was now dragging his insides out as it was pulled out of him.

Sirius sobbed, his own sorrow, not for the Dementors to feast on, not for Bella to laugh at him for in the cell beside him.

His own mourning.

His own realization that there would never be another holiday with his brother and his wife.

The war was over.

And it had taken nearly everything.

He needed to pull himself together, go be with the only pieces of Lily and James left behind.

But for a time, Sirius gave himself to loss, let himself take out his own broken heart and let it bleed into the snow. Let his sobs echo through the wintery night, only dark shadows of the trees and the backs of mountains to bear witness.

Lily and James Potter were dead.

James was dead.

And it should have been Sirius not them, not Harry who should have paid for his mistakes.

* * *

AN: Reactions, thoughts, concerns, or requests, OR puppies, preferably of herding dog variety? Pretty, pretty please?


	11. To Win a War

KEYnote: Jumping into book four, assume fluffy shit happened in book three after the dementors left. Also, Theo teaching Harry more and more swear words ;)

My Dearest Beta Ahrnberg, who I love so much I sent spiders in the mail to him, because yes, I am that friend ;)

 _Ahrnberg: Allegedly. I'm still not sure if he actually did, or if he's just tormenting me with the idea. See, I really don't like spiders. At all. And I made the mistake of telling him that... How is this my life now?_

 _Jacob:_ Yep, I'm _that_ friend.

Chapter 11 - To Win a War

"Are you sure they will let us take Orion?"

"Sure they will," Malcolm answered, "especially since he's famous now

for killing a war criminal."

"Yeah," Theo said dryly, "nothing like killing a man in his thirties who slept in childrens' pockets for thirteen years to make people appreciate you."

Orion growled.

Harry sighed, "Can you not phrase it like that?"

Theo shrugged, "Phrase it however you like."

Minerva came in wearing emerald her arms full of green shamrocks and green scarfs.

She was smiling, and seemed to be bursting with excitement.

Theo just sort of froze, with the most peculiar look on his face.

Theo and excess shows of positive emotion didn't always mix well.

Harry put an arm around his shoulder, "Come on, Theo, where's your team spirit."

"Fuck the Irish," was his response, "I'm voting for Bulgaria."

"Language, Mr. Nott," Minerva, wrapping a scarf embroidered with shamrocks on it around his shoulders, "we are all going to have fun."

He scowled as if the idea of 'fun' offended him deeply.

Minerva just grinned and moved onto Harry and Malcolm.

Then she turned to Orion.

"Sit," she instructed.

The grim sat and willing put his paws into the doggy sweater she knelt to put on him.

"Merlin, even the dog?" Theo asked.

Minerva stood and waved her wand at Orion, the green sweater lit up with moving multiplying shamrocks.

This seemed to delight Orion who began hopping up and down and prancing around the room, which got the other two started. They started doing rapid circles around the kitchen table and around the couch.

The herding dogs were arguably better at this game than the grim, they lapped him thrice before the grim plopped down at Harry's feet, the other two racing toward the door Malcolm had opened.

Theo shook his head.

"Ready to go camping?" Harry asked him.

Theo sighed heavily.

"I personally designed the tent," Malcolm enthused. "You're going to love it."

Malcolm's inclination toward charmed metal made camping on the greens more like staying in the suit of a royal palace.

oOo

Minerva had splurged on expensive tickets, which had them seated with the Malfoys.

The Weasleys had somehow gotten tickets too, seated a few rows in front of them, and the Bones, plus Hermione and Neville were seated behind them.

Draco sat beside Theo and Orion sat on Harry's and Malcolm's laps.

Minerva sat on the edge of her seat.

To say she was a Quidditch enthusiast was perhaps far too mild a description.

Harry nor Theo were moved by the Veelas but Lucius had to grab his son by the back of the collar to stop him from making a fool of himself. Much as Ginny Weasley had to do for her brother Ron.

"Don't you say anything," Draco snarled in a whisper to Harry and Theo.

Theo blinked at him, "Say something, about what? Say something like you have the impulse control-" Theo stopped himself and with false sweetness, and said instead, "oh, you want me not to say that, I get it."

"I hate you both."

Harry swallowed a laugh, "I didn't say anything."

Draco glared.

But whatever issues they had with each other were quickly forgotten as the game started.

Of the ones most excited to see the match, it was a close tie between Minerva and Orion, both had a tendency to howl when the Irish made a goal.

oOo

"Honestly, Potter, your grim is the weirdest creature I've ever met," Draco said as they walked back to their tents.

Orion yipped in affirmation.

Harry grinned, "You should meet the other two."

"No," Theo said, voice dry, "you really shouldn't. They shed."

Their conversation quickly reverted back to discussing the game.

They might all pick at each other, and Draco and Harry might always be competing for second highest marks in school after Hermione but they were far from enemies.

And Harry found that he liked Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy quite a lot.

Her comments were as sharp as Theo's, if more refined.

"Perhaps if you three were to study together-" Narcissa was saying before she abruptly cut herself at the sound of a distant scream.

They all spun to see and the happy, not altogether sober, crowd was quickly descending into a mob of panicked people.

Someone ran past them screaming, "Death Eaters, Death Eaters!"

And as if to emphasize their claim, a familiar green casted lights were sparkling in the distance through a growing fog.

Among the growing sound, Harry heard Lucius breath, "No, not now."

Minerva turned to them, "Lucius, Narcissa, stay with the children."

Lucius took a step forward, his mouth opening in protest, but Malcolm held out his hand, "There is nothing you can do."

Malcolm and Minerva turned, running toward the danger, wands at the ready.

Harry shouted after them, " _No!"_ Panic rose in him, the green lights a horrid reminder.

He couldn't lose the McGonagalls, he couldn't lose his family, not again.

Orion jumped in front of him, blocking his path with bared teeth as Narcissa got an iron grip on his arm. "Harry, no, you would only be a hindrance."

"Let's go," Lucius instructed, herding them toward the treeline.

They stuck close together as the fleeing crowd buffered around them.

A few of the tents were going up in flames.

Draco tripped, his mother catching him and half dragging him forward at a faster pace.

A spell hit one of the tents like a bomb. Narcissa curled around her son, as Lucius pulled Harry and Theo into a protective hug, giving his back to the dirt and shrapnel.

Harry felt Lucius absorb the blows, but he didn't pull away for an instant.

"Go," he hissed to them.

But Theo and Harry wordlessly put an arm around the older wizard's waist, his arms going around their shoulders.

He didn't waste time arguing with them. He let out one grunt of pain when he put his weight down on his bad leg, but none after that.

He grew heavy as they made it within the shelter of the trees.

"Sit him down," Narcissa instructed indicating the large tree stump as she began drawing a magical circle around them. Orion passed back and forth within that circle, pausing every now and then to listen or sniff the air.

When Narcissa finished, the people who ran by seemed to naturally avoid them without ever so much as glancing in their direction.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Lucius waved her off, "who the hell could be that stupid? It has taken us years to recover from the war, and with that rat on the tracks and Black's escape last year…"

"You don't think it's Sirius Black then?" Theo asked.

"Not unless his head cracked, which I suppose is possible, Black wasn't altogether the sanest citizen before Azkaban. But no, I find it hard to believe Black betrayed the Potters."

"James and Sirius were as close as brothers, closer than Sirius and Regulus were," Narcissa elaborated.

"Regulus Black was a Death Eater," Theo said as he sat on the ground, trusting the ward as five more people ran the edge of the circle without looking at them.

"Yes, my little cousin was initiated. So caught in the theory of Dark Arts that when he finally looked up from his books, he was quite surprised to discover a war going on. He betrayed the Dark Lord and wasn't clever enough not to get caught."

Orion growled.

They all looked around, but no one had approached. Orion went back to pacing.

"The papers said that the Black Family home was broken into," Theo argued, "Sirius is still out there."

But Narcissa shook her head, "Once a Black always a Black, whether my Auntie Dearest burned you off the family tree or not. No, if my cousin wanted into that house for some forsaken reason, then he could have just walked in. None of those old wards would have gone off."

"But he's still out there."

"This wasn't Sirius Black," Lucius asserted, "There aren't many of us left that would risk our freedom for a stupid stunt like this."

"Why were you a Death Eater?" Harry asked bluntly. "You don't seem to regard the Dark Lord all that highly."

"I agreed with his ideals, at least in theory, less so his means," Lucius answered twirling his staff.

"But you were a part of his means," Harry stated without accusation.

Lucius sighed, "My father was a personal friend of the Dark Lord. I did what was expected of me."

Narcissa put a hand on Draco's head where he sat beside her, "and once I finally became pregnant, there was no more choice."

"He nearly bankrupted us," Lucius snarled, "and I do not appreciate this all being dragged back up."

Harry sat down beside Theo, Orion pressed his back against both of theirs, "The green lights… those were killing curses weren't they?"

"Yes," Lucius said.

Harry wrapped his arms around his knees, Orion rested his head on his shoulder.

oOo

The fog had cleared leaving ruin behind, Minerva's nerves were as tuned as a lightning rod in a thunderstorm.

Tents were smouldering and there were bodies.

Minerva's heart tightened and Malcolm cursed behind her, he called, "Does anyone need help!?"

"Over here!"

Minerva spun toward the familiar voice.

"Ms. Granger!" she called, running toward a mound of shattered stone.

Ms. Granger had bloody cut down her cheek, her robes dirty and torn likely from being too close to what must have been a wall.

"Susan and Madame Bones!" Hermione said, tears trailing down her face.

Minerva banished the stones.

Amelia let out a soft groan and despite her injuries turned on her stomach to crawl to her niece.

Malcolm beat her there, he performed a medical scan and the spell glowed a healthy blue.

"She's breathing Amelia, just knocked unconscious. We have to get her to St. Mungo's though."

Amelia sat up beside them. She put one hand on Susan before pulling Hermione to her and checking the girl over.

"Where's Neville?" Minerva asked.

"Neville! Nev!" Hermione shouted, going back to near hysterical.

"Here!" Neville said raising his hand from a smouldering pile of ashes.

Minerva ran to him.

He was completely covered in soot, his eyes bright against the black ash. He looked like a dazed coal miner, but not otherwise harmed. He must have been blown back by a clash of spellfire.

A medical scan a moment later proved that he was unharmed, at least physically.

Malcolm stayed with them as she searched outward for people.

But there was no sign of anyone, well, anyone alive. She found five bodies of people she did not recognize.

She tried apparating back to Malcolm's side, and when she succeeded, she knew the wards protecting the fields had been broken down.

"Red eyes," Amelia was saying, Susan cradled in her arms. The girl had woken but Amelia was holding a wandless soothing charm to her temple. It was something mothers used on restless babies, and apparently worked well on young people who may or may not be suffering head trauma.

"What?" Minerva asked.

Amelia looked up at her, "He was wearing a mask, but I would recognize him anywhere."

Aurors popped in around them as well as Cornelius Fudge.

"It was Voldemort. He's back," Amelia finished.

Needless to say this information was not well received.

oOo

Minerva and Malcolm were free to go sometime later. Cornelius had put his foot down on Amelia's testimony.

It would not go to print, rumours of Lord Voldemort's return, it was a large enough disaster and tragedy without it.

Thirteen dead.

All of them foreign officials, except for one. Though the Bulgarian President had survived the attack, his daughter had not.

Three of the masked attackers were found stunned on the edge of the ruined line of tents. Amos Diggory, Arthur Weasley, and Auror John Dawlish.

They would all be tried at court, but it was safe to say all three wizards had been imperiused.

The idea that one wizard could have held all three enthralled under that curse to terrorize the public, helped Amelia's claim that it had been Voldemort himself among them tonight.

"Retreated not defeated," Minerva muttered as she watched the mark writhing in the air above.

The impromptu Death Eaters had cut a deadly through the Bulgarian security.

What was perhaps strangest of the event, was over any domestically targeted individuals, only Amelia had been targeted.

And as Amelia was still alive, well, even if she would be spending the last part of the summer at St. Mungo's, had the other countries in attendance enraged.

Minerva had tried to insist on cancelling the upcoming Triwizard tournament to Cornelius.

But he wouldn't hear her, insisting that they needed international unity more than ever.

Minerva disagreed, knowing how tense things were already likely to be, but now?

If someone got hurt, one of the students, even accidentally, it would take decades for foreign relations to recover.

Not that they had been all that great to begin with.

Minerva paused as her feet took her away from her straight path through the woods.

Malcolm didn't pause, pulling a silver dagger from his pocket and popping the ward like a water balloon.

"Harry," Minerva breathed, opening her arms.

He ran into her embrace and she mouthed over his head to Lucius and Narcissa, _Thank you._

They nodded.

"Do you know anything?"

"Thirteen dead, all foreign officials aside from the Bulgarian President's daughter."

Narcissa let out a hiss and Lucius looked nothing short of furious.

"Who? How many were attacking?"

"Four. Of them Amos Diggory, Arthur Weasley, and John Dawlish."

"Are you joking?" He asked staggering to his feet, "there aren't many who could have held an Imperius on three, and Dawlish is accomplished Auror."

"Amelia claims that through the mask, she saw red eyes. She believes that Voldemort is back."

All but Harry and Malcolm flinched at the name.

Orion growled menacingly and Theo hugged the grim around the canine's neck.

Lucius looked deathly pale and Narcissa asked, an edge of desperation to her voice, "Could you take Draco for the rest of the summer? I'll bring his school supplies to the station on the first."

"Mum!" Draco exclaimed.

"Of course," Minerva said, heart sinking. She wanted to tell them to just call Voldemort in if he showed up.

But she knew it wasn't that simple. If they resisted, they would die. Draco would die.

She did not agree with the Malfoys on much, but she did respect them and she owed them for keeping Harry and Theo safe.

Even if Voldemort showed up tomorrow at Malfoy Manor, Draco's absence could easily be explained away that he was staying with friends.

McGonagalls or no, the Boy Who Lived or no, all three boys were Slytherins.

And Slytherin took care of their own.

Lucius sank back onto the stump looking suddenly drained, he said quietly but clearly, "I don't know that I can do this again."

"This time," Minerva said, "if it is him, I'm going to kill him myself."

Minerva met Narcissa's gaze and an understanding passed between them.

The first time Voldemort had come into power, he had used children to fight for him.

This time around, if anyone dared go after the rising generations, he was going to find himself face down floating dead in the water.

* * *

The rest of summer seemed to go by in the blink of an eye, at least for Harry and Theo.

Draco had no more sent a polite but brief thank you to Malcolm before he ran to the sight of his parents.

Narcissa greeting him with a true smile and tight embrace.

Malcolm tsked, "You boys should be nice."

"We were nice," Harry protested.

"Perfectly civil," Theo said straight faced.

And they had been nice to Draco, but perhaps not kind. Draco turned out to be highly gullible and never seemed to catch onto Theo when he was making a dry joke. Add in Harry's penchant for being a strange person and, well… they may have messed with the blonde's head a little.

Nothing too bad, knew well that Draco's stay at the McGonagall's would not be classified as altogether restful.

Malcolm sighed and hugged them both, even expecting it, both Harry and Theo had ease themselves into returning the gesture. "Be good," he told them.

Orion bumped, his eyes bright and yipped.

If Harry could speak to dogs the way he could to snakes, he was sure Orion had said, 'Get into lots of trouble.'

The train whistle blew and they boarded the train finding themselves seated with Daphne, Tracy, Mili, and Blaise.

They waved to Malcolm and Orion, the latter of whom chased the train to the end of the platform.

No sooner had they sat back in their seats did Mili ask, "Is he back?"

Theo sighed, pulling out a textbook, leaving Harry to answer, "That's what Madame Bones said."

Blaise cursed, "You have any idea who's teaching DADA this year? If we get another crackpot like Quirrel or Lockhart…"

"He's an ex-Auror, Alastair Moody."

Daphne sank into her seat, "Mad-Eye. He hates Slytherins."

"What else is new?" Blaise muttered.

"Did Draco stay with you over the summer Harry?" Daphne asked.

"Yeah, he's alright, not nearly as sure of himself without Crabbe and Goyle."

"Of course not," Blaise said, "Draco has never known how to make friends. At parties, his two buffoons would chase off anyone who tried to talk to him. He, and his parents, never noticed. They are lazy now, but they used to be quite clever."

"Clever?" Mili asked, "Goyle once put a frog down my dress when I was ten. It was awful."

"Yes," Daphne agreed, "but to prove Blaise's theory, you never tried talking to Draco after that, did you?"

She shook her head.

"What about Pancy?" Tracy asked.

"Goyle is in love with her," Blaise said dismissively, "haven't you seen him drooling. If she dates Draco that's the closest he will ever get to girl."

"If that isn't the honest truth," Daphne agreed.

"You all make me half glad I was raised by Muggles," Harry stated.

Theo snickered, "We would have torn you apart on the playground, Potter."

"Wait," Blaise said, "I thought the McGonagalls adopted you. No one knew where you went after that Halloween, it seemed logical though that Dumbledore would hide you away with a trusted family."

"He did hide me, with my mother's relatives. Minerva adopted the summer before our first year at Hogwarts."

"Why?" Daphne asked, "why then? Why would she took you away from your family?"

"My muggle relatives made clear to her their issues with having a wizard in the household. I didn't even know about magic until she showed up. I thought I was just odd."

Theo patted his knee, "Don't worry, Harry, you are."

"So you didn't know about the Boy Who Lived or the Dark Lord until school?" Tracy asked, eyes wide.

"Nope."

"How did the muggles tell you about your parents got murdered?" Blaise asked.

"They told me my parents were reckless drunks who wrapped themselves around a tree while I was in the back seat. This being my only injury," Harry tapped his scar, "my relatives were not kind people."

"Do you wish them harm?" Blaise asked.

Harry frowned, "No, why would I? I don't have to live with them any more."

Blaise looked at him for a long moment before he huffed a laugh, "You would make a terrible dark lord, Potter."

Theo nodded as if Blaise had just said something very wise.

Harry spelled his friend's hair yellow.

And Theo turned his head slowly to Harry, opened his mouth and blew fire at his face.

Daphne and Tracy flipped out.

And it took Blaise, Mili, _and_ Harry laughing for them to calm down enough to see it was a just a chocolate truffle infused with fire whiskey that Theo had acquired by owl ordering to London having forged his father's signature.

Needless to say, the rest of the way to Hogwarts was spent with them all breathing fire at each other.

* * *

Their first class on their first day of term was DADA.

"Well, will be getting the worst over first," Draco said as they walked.

Moody had a reputation for not liking Slytherins, but all bets were off for those with confirmed Death Eater relations.

Things only got better when they discovered that they would be sharing the class with the Gryffindors.

Though as Theo noted, the Gryffindors were probably the people they would most likely have to defend themselves against.

Still, the Slytherin fourth years had unitedly ceded ground to let the Gryffindors have the front of the room. Which accomplished two things, a buffer between them and the crazed professor being openly hostile toward them, as well as insuring no enemies were at their backs.

Though Harry was starting to believe both Theo and Draco were developing some affection for the smartest girl in school who sat posed at the front of the class.

"Who can name the three Unforgivables?"

Theo leaned back in his seat, muttering, "Knew I should have skipped the first day."

Harry agreed as they watched the professor torture spiders.

"Enough! Stop doing that, you monster!" this from Neville, who sat in front with Hermione.

Unlike with Snape who terrified Longbottom to the point of becoming a perpetual walking potion disaster, he wasn't scared, he was angry.

Furius really.

Theo leaned in to whisper to Harry, "Both his parents are still in St. Mungo's."

Harry didn't need further explanation and they watched in silence as the professor took his sweet time releasing the or arachnid from its torment.

Harry glanced around him at his classmates. Their faces were solemn, some looked overly pale.

And Harry was pretty sure none of them were thinking of or in the least concerned about the spider.

"And then, the Killing Curse. _Avada Kedavra."_

Harry jolted in his seat, the memory of that green light drawing him back to when the dementors had nearly killed him last year.

The memory of his father telling Lily to run, the sound of his body dropping to the ground, his mother crying as the Dark Lord laughed and laughed, taunting her as she begged for her child's life.

And that green light, a floating sensation, and then blinding pain.

A pain worse than Harry could compare. Worse than breaking bones, growing his bones back magically, or getting cut up by a hippogryph.

Daphne touched his hand where it was balled up on the desk.

He opened his hand, his fingers splotched as the blood tried to continue normal circulation.

He turned his hand, holding on to Daphne's as if she were a life line.

Harry was not too proud to accept a quiet gesture of help.

And, as it turned out, he needed it.

Mad-Eye lectured on, "There is only one person in the world known to have survived, and he sits among us."

Everyone turned to look at Harry as Mad-Eye pointed at him unnecessarily.

Harry smiled bitterly, "You don't have to remind me, Professor, I remember."

Now the class gaped at him, the silence in the room pressing. Even Mad-eye's good eye had gone wide, the freaky one spinning wildly.

"What is it, exactly, you remember, Potter?"

Harry felt his own face go hard and he rubbed his thumb across the side of Daphne's hand, "I remember the Dark Lord laughing as he killed us."

Red eyes, green light.

The class looked at him as if they had never seen him before.

Not a story, not a hero, but a boy who had somehow survived his parents' murder.

Mad-Eye's face was a mask of fury, "And do you have any ideas, Potter, how you survived."

"Well, logic dictates that it would have been something one of the adults did, not a spontaneous act of baby magic."

If it was possible the ex-Auror looked even more angry.

"They were dead before he tried to kill you."

"I don't know much about curses, but I know there are ways to spell traps and wards that keep things out."

"There is nothing that would work against a killing curse."

"Well apparently, my parents found something that did."

His housemates were staring at him in a calculating manner.

He had said something of this nature when he first arrived, but they were all older now. And somewhere along the line, he had earned their trust.

"You think you're clever, Potter? Let's see if your mommy's protection lasts, shall we?"

Harry shoved Theo out of his chair before he wrapped himself bodily around Daphne as Lucius Malfoy had done for him this summer. He dropped them below the desks.

Mad-Eye's Imperius chimed off the wood above them.

The rest of Slytherin house was also beneath the desks.

"Fuck this," Theo muttered and as all the Gryffindors got to their feet led by Neville if his shouted stunning spell was anything to go by.

Stupid idiots were making themselves targets.

"Door," Harry told them, unwrapping himself from around Daphne so she could crawl forward.

No, it wasn't brave, and sure, maybe it was cowardly.

But their teacher was fucking insane.

Their rush for safety wasn't fast enough.

Lupin was their only decent DADA professor in the last four years.

The Gryffindors were commendable for standing against the highly trained madman.

But the madman was more powerful.

One moment they were all lost in a group, sheltered somewhat by the tables, and in the next moment the tables had vanished completely, the crowd of Gryffindors blown off their feet to either side of the room.

Harry looked over his shoulder, he was directly in Mad-Eye's line of sight.

Harry pulled Daphne back into his arms, if Moody missed she shouldn't suffer from it.

Theo growled, " _Protego!"_

Several others called out shield charms, blue glass between him and the professor.

But Harry had already deduced what was coming, and the green burst of light was not stymied in the slightest by the basic protection charms as Mad-Eye's voice reverberated through the room.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry felt his last breath rattle from him as his body went slack around Daphne, the last thing he felt was her trying to hold him

Death did not hurt, not physically, but some part of him knew what he was leaving behind.

And he knew that he was neither ready nor did he wish to die. But he was not afraid when a cloud of numbness swallowed the regret and sorrow.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was not afraid of death.

oOo

"We've been waiting for you," Lily said sadly, her hand resting on his.

Harry blinked, as if coming awake, the white mist gradually receded.

He was sitting on Malcolm's bench the one that overlooked the mountains and the valley of his home.

On either side of Harry sat James and Lily Potter.

"Mum, Dad… where- where are we?"

Lily wrapped her arms around him and he stiffened, hugs still felt new to him, but he relaxed when James hugged them both.

"We are so proud of you," James said.

 _I'm dreaming,_ Harry decided.

"Thanks," he said, trying to recall what he had always wanted to tell, "I miss you both, and I'm so so sorry you died for me."

They pulled back from him, Lily's face was beautiful, her eyes a mirror of his own.

She had been so young when she died.

"No, Harry, we did not die for you, we failed to protect you. We died in war fighting for everyone's future, including yours, but in no way was it your fault."

James placed a warm hand on his shoulder, and when Harry turned to look at him fully, he knew why everyone remarked on their appearance.

They could have been brothers, aside from Harry's eyes and his hair being true black they were nearing identical.

"Harry, we love you more than anything, do not believe for an instant that we regretted protecting you."

He remembered shielding Daphne, remembered Lucius shielding Theo and him, remembered Narcissa shielding her son, "We protect the people who are ours, the people we don't want to see get hurt, the people we love."

James's eyes were wet with unshed tears, "Yes, we do."

Harry hugged his father, and he didn't care if this was a dream or not.

For a moment he let everything go, for a moment he was safe and the world was still.

And when that moment passed, he asked, "Now what?"

"Whatever you like," Lily said.

"What do you want, Harry, what do you really want?" James asked.

"I want to know you both," he said at once.

Lily smiled, and offered him his hand, "What do you want to know?"

"What would have been."

Her smile faded but she nodded. They stood together and headed toward Malcolm's cottage.

Malcolm wasn't there and no dogs came running to great them in enthused delight.

But the cottage was still home, and with his parents there, it was still a place of love and family.

James and Lily were not what Harry had expected. Yes, he knew James was prankster and that his Lily had loved learning, but he hadn't expected them to be so, so… playful.

Wherever Lily went, she looked as if she were dancing, her smile, her laughter, and her kindness was infectious.

No wonder Aunt Petunia had been jealous, there was a goodness about Lily Potter that could not be faked, could not be learned, it was simply who she was. A summer breeze beneath a bright, bright sun.

And James? Harry couldn't understand how Snape had ever mistaken them, looks is where the resemblance ended. To say James was bold was perhaps the greatest understatement.

Harry would never be that confident, would never be able to walk into a room like he owned it and assume that all eyes were on him.

And his sense of humour was…

Harry had of course heard about dad jokes, and the few times Uncle Vernon had tried had been nothing short of torturous.

But Harry's dad was actually funny, he made it damn hard not smile all the time.

He was also a boisterous person. He wasn't quite sure how his mum handled the constant noise level, Dad liked to talk loudly, laugh loudly, and even snore loudly.

Once he found Malcolm's radio, it was never quiet, ever.

Mum seemed to have learned to tune it out as she read on the sofa.

And when she cooked she tended to dance to the music, something Harry found himself roped into as he helped her.

Dad was straight up not allowed in the kitchen. Harry had made that mistake once, when Mum had slept in and Dad had offered to help with breakfast.

Harry had turned his back on him for two seconds after the foolish wizard had spilled the flour.

The next thing Harry knew there was a cloud of black smoke and Mum was out of bed shouting at them.

No, James Potter was not allowed in the kitchen.

Where Harry and his father were most in sync was soaring the skies. Flying was a language they both understood well.

And as they were both competitive, Harry was able to prove for certain that he was indeed the better flyer.

Weeks passed like this, years, a lifetime in a dream, in the mist.

United with his family at long last.

But one question kept bothering him, "When are Malcolm and Minerva coming home?"

The dogs he assumed were with Malcolm.

Lily smiled sadly, "We don't know, Harry, time isn't certain here."

Harry frowned, "They are coming home, aren't they? Minerva misses you both. We should go see them."

"We can't, Harry, not yet. It isn't their time yet."

Harry's heart clenched, "But I need… they're my family. They are probably worried about me."

Lily nodded, "I'm sure they will be, they haven't heard yet."

"Heard what yet?"

James asked softly, "Son, do you remember how you got here?"

The memory struck him and he put a hand out to the kitchen island for support, "I'm dead."

"Almost," Lily whispered.

Harry shook his head, Minerva was never going to forgive him, "No, no, I stayed to long, it's been years, I should have fought, when you asked what I wanted I should have…"

"Time isn't real," James said, "what is it you want, Harry?"

He looked up feeling the tears spilled down his cheeks, he died, Minerva, Malcolm, and Theo, heck even the dogs, he had left them behind without so much as a thought, "I want to go back home, my _real_ home. I love you both, but I want-" he sucked in a breath, "I want to live."

Lily's smile could have out the shown the sun, and James looked as if he was fighting not to cry, he seemed to give up, big tears rolling down his cheeks as he smiled.

"Tell Orion he is a good boy, won't you?"

Harry frowned reaching out to them as the white mist bloated out the sunshine from the windows.

"You know my dog?"

"Tell him it wasn't his fault, we forgive him, we all made mistakes, and now it is time to move on."

Lily reached for him, but her hand turned to white smoke as she touched his hand, "We love you, Harry."

"More than anything," James said as the cottage disappeared completely.

"I love you both!" Harry called, as everything flashed from white to black.

Dying hadn't hurt much.

Coming back to life? That was another matter entirely.

* * *

Theo had seen a lot in his relatively short life, his mother's death, his father's drunkenly poaching on muggle women, and a Basilisk emerge from _the_ Chamber of Secrets.

He had thought himself prepared for whatever horror life threw at him next.

But he wasn't prepared to watch his best friend drop dead from the killing curse.

Daphne was screaming for Harry's name as she turned him in her arms. But Theo knew dead when he saw it.

Harry was gone.

Rage such as he had never felt before poured through him and he turned his wand on the murderer. The monster had already dropped from the partial rebound of green light, but Theo threw the most powerful stunner he could at the man.

He hoped the bastard lived to get the dementors kiss.

But several other stunners followed his. Mad-Eye was down.

Hermonie came to Theo's side as the class crowded around them. Someone had run for help, but Theo couldn't focus on any of them, only Hermione holding his hand kept him grounded.

"I'm so sorry, Theo," she said softly.

He shook his head, and with his free hand reached for the artery at Harry's neck.

His friend looked paler than ever, his wild hair messier than ever. His lightning bolt scar had burst open and was dripping blood down the side of his face.

He looked dead, but Theo's fingers found a pulse.

His own heart rate sky rocketed, the _bloody, fucking tosser!_

Theo grabbed Harry's shoulder and shook him hard, "Wake up, Harry."

No response.

"Dammit it all! Get up, Potter!"

Hermione touched his arm, "Theodore, he's gone."

Daphne had turned Harry towards Theo, giving him a good angle, so Theo slapped his friend across the face.

He slapped him hard.

And when that didn't immediately work, he backhanded him.

Hermione and Daphne were screaming at him, even Pansy was saying, "No, Theo, no…"

But then Harry sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes flashing opening as he fought to sit up.

Daphne's scream was blood curdling and she dropped Harry, pushing back as fast as she could while still on the floor.

Theo caught Harry, helping him sit up. His friend was shaking like a leaf in winter, and despite being alive, he didn't look well. Not at all.

Draco was gaping at him, "Do you just not know how to die?"

Harry didn't respond, he was trying to rub away the blood from his eye with a shaking fist, but had only succeeded in smearing it across his face.

Theo wrapped his arms around his waist, taking his weight as Harry sagged.

"Harry, say something," he instructed.

"Theo," he said roughly, his voice sounding like it took far too much energy and concentration for him to speak.

"Help is coming," Hermione told him, "Neville went for- crap, crap! He's going into shock! Harry! Look at me! You have to breath, just breath!"

Theo held on, and someone gave them an extra robe to use as a blanket as Harry went colder and colder.

"You are not allowed to die," Theo threatened him at his ear.

"I'm so-so-rrry," Harry said through chattering teeth, his breath short.

"Breathe," Hermoine ordered, "just breathe."

Theo held on to the surety and command in the girl's voice as he waited, waited for help, help that he had never trusted before, help that had never come in time before.

* * *

AN: Reactions, thoughts, comments, ideas, or pie? Pecan pie being my favourite.


	12. Heart Falls

KEYnote: There was no Philosopher's Stone, the Flemmels live, and some of your assumptions are dangerous. For instance, Crouch Jr. didn't need Voldy to escape and if the Lordling already has a body, do you really believe he would be staying at Riddle Manor? Is Voldy so easy to find? Is he all knowing?

Albus Dumbledore wasn't.

P.S. **None of my stories are abandoned** , quit cussing at me for not having infinite time and energy, please.

* * *

Skippable AN: End of Chapter 11 - Winning Wars

Harry: Bleh.

Jacob: Yep, he's dead now. Minerva adopts Theo, Theo defeats the Dark Lord and the story ends in this chapter. Voldemort wins the war.

Albus: I told you all, what I did was for the greater good.

Jacob: Jk, I'm not JKR. Cliffhanger? Bah, the entirety of the sixth book, however, now that, _that_ is going to be a cliffhanger.

Harry: And seventh year isn't looking promising either, is it?

Jacob: This story has an ending...

Malcolm: By Merlin's saggy ball sacks! I will make you rue the day, Apples!

Jacob: I love you, too. Well, sort of. I think I am having a bit too much fun causing you pain and suffering.

Minerva: …

Theo: We all better get a fucking happy ending, you psycho.

Jacob: ;)

Lily: So for Christmas, are James and I going to get laid by an assassin?

Natasha: I am certainly planning on it.

Minerva: Who the Hell are you and what does Lily's ghost mean by assassin?

Natasha: I'm Harry's other, other mother.

Harry N.R.: It is better to be Russian.

Harry: British is best.

Harry N.R.: Oh you poor, poor soul.

Theo: Why are there two of them!?

Jacob: Hush now, the next chapter is starting.

* * *

Chapter 12 - Heart Falls

Minerva's classroom door burst open, the sixth years turned in unison to the distraction of Neville Longbottom red faced and short of breath as he panted out, "Mad-Eye used the Killing Curse on Harry Potter."

Minerva ran.

She didn't think, as her feet pounded the stones, she didn't hesitate when her hat pulled free of her hair. She didn't glance back at her class.

What she did do was send a Patronus, first to Poppy, then it would go to Albus.

The memory she called up was of the first time she taught Harry how to fly.

She felt her heart tare.

He couldn't be dead.

 _Not Harry, please, please not Harry!_

No one survived the Killing Curse, no one.

But Harry had, once.

She knew she was praying for another miracle. One more chance to pull from reality a stroke to defy all rule and order, because if not, losing Harry would be the end of her.

She might go on living, but there would be no light left, no real point to it. She had made too many mistakes in her life, lost too much.

He should have been safe in the school, it could not have been a teacher, an Auror who had done this.

She was going to murder him if so.

The DADA classroom's door was open and she nearly tripped over the students crowded around Harry and Theo.

" _Stupify!"_ She snarled at the prone body at the front of the class. The body rocked like a struck board.

"Minerva!" Theo called to her.

the fourth years moved out of her way and she dropped to her knees beside them.

Her heart stopped when she saw Harry's bloody face.

But he was breathing, his eyes flickering open and shut, unfocused as he seemed to try to shake out of his skin.

"Harry," she said, her voice breaking over his name.

She put a hand to his head, his skin was clammy.

"Mum-m," he stuttered.

"Shhhh," she said softly and began working a warming and a calming charm. It wasn't much but it would counteract the worst effects of shock.

Harry slumped suddenly against Theo who hugged him tight.

Daphne let out a small scream.

"It's alright," Minerva soothed, "he's coming out of shock."

She used another charm to clear the blood from his face. His scar had elongated, looking less like a symbol and more like wound caused by a blade slice.

"What happened?" she asked, Harry didn't answer, he just slowly blinked at her, his face slack.

Maybe she had put a bit too much force behind the calming charm.

But Theo answered, his voice harsh, "Your fucking professor thought he would teach us about the Unforgivables, and he proved to us, quite clearly, that shield charms don't do shite against the Killing Curse."

She didn't chastise him for his language, if there was ever a day for it, today was that day.

"Harry was hit directly by it?"

"Yes," Theo said, "He dropped, he died, his breath fucking rattled out and he was a Merlin damned corpse. But the spell also rebounded. The bastard dropped too."

"Did he get up too?"

"He never got the chance, yours was maybe the tenth stunner."

"And Harry?"

"Theo slapped Harry awake," Hermione supplied.

Minerva didn't know what to say to that but she didn't have to as Poppy came into the room at a sprint.

She was puffy as she knelt beside them, the medical charm kept flipping back between red and blue.

"What does that mean?" Minerva asked.

"It means he should be dead," Poppy snapped as she frowned at Harry's head. She did something intricate between a hand motion and wand tip, moving both from the crown of his head to the centre of his chest.

She sucked in a breath.

"What is it?" Minerva demanded, her own voice sharp.

"Curses, broken curses. He had a cap on his magical core, and he was at the centre of… two… three. Three broken curses."

"What the hell does that mean?" Theo demanded, holding onto Harry as if he was a lifeline.

Harry was blinking more rapidly now as Minerva lifted the calming charm.

Poppy shook her head, and touched Harry's forehead, "The Killing Curse worked, but it blew back, one break, there is something to his scare here, the second break, and something, some curse placed on his heart, the physical organ, the third broken curse. All three snapped."

"Is he going to be okay?" Theo and Minerva asked together.

Poppy shook her head, "He should be dead, the very breaking of those curses should have killed him. But I don't know beyond that. Aside from the residue of them, he seems fine, but I am not an expert in the Dark Arts, not at this level. This is the High Arcana."

She looked at Minerva, "I believe it is safe to move him."

Minerva took Harry from Theo at once, wrapping her arms around him as she pulled him onto her lap.

"Let him stay with me for a week," the healer continued. "Then bring him home for a month. He will need time to recover and adjust."

"Adjust to what?" Theo asked.

"If he had a cap on his core he may experience random spurts of accidental magic, he may become a danger to those around him."

At this Harry finally stirred, Minerva's heart broke at the effort it took for him to focus on the other witch, "No," he whispered, "no."

"Malcolm will be with you," Minerva assaulted him, "I'll be with you."

Albus could damn well cover her courses for a month. This was his mess after all.

"Don't want to hurt nobody," Harry said his voice thin.

"No one is going to get hurt," Minerva stated

 _No one else._

But even she knew it was a lie.

A lie reflected in the distrust in Theodore's brown eyes.

"You won't hurt anyone, my dear," Poppy said, "you'll rest up and come back to classes sharper than ever. Go to sleep now, Mr. Potter. You are safe now. Sleep."

And it was as if he had been waiting for permission to stop fighting, because he only blinked once more before sinking into sleep.

Or passing out.

Albus entered then, he had to catch himself with the doorframe to stop his momentum.

He looked at the room in horror, "Is he-?"

"Asleep," Minerva said, her voice ice, "No thanks to your _friend_."

The last she tried to make a threat, it came out a question.

Minerva had trusted Alastor as well.

For the first time, she saw the older man lost. He stood staring at the traumatized class, his friend unconscious or dead on the floor after attempting to murder one of his students.

Say what you might about, Albus but he always held the best interest for his students.

This, this is not what he could ever have intended.

"Why don't we all go up to my wing of the castle, shall we?" Poppy said to the class. "I'm sure we could all benefit from some hot cider or hot chocolate, no?"

And a dose of calming potion, Minerva had no doubt. But the class damn well needed one, probably, so did she.

Minerva stood with Harry in her arms.

War had taught her that physical care was as important as magical. That she asked Severus for bone strengthening potions annually was no small part either.

She wasn't superwoman, Harry was heavy, but it was far from an impossible task to ascend to the upper wing. Theodore stayed close at her side.

Albus stayed behind with Mad-Eye's body as he alerted the Ministry.

Harry didn't wake for the rest of the day, neither Minerva nor Theo left him.

* * *

Albus was lost.

 _How could this have happened?_

It appeared that all his plans were falling apart these days. He had been so sure, _so sure,_ he held all the cards in his hands.

But Minerva had gone behind his back, and Harry Potter, the key to Voldemort's permanent defeat, had turned out untrustworthy. Severus had turned on him, the courts, his professors, the very world was slipping through his fingers...

And now here Albus stood, above the corpse of his long time friend.

Untrustworthy.

It was what Albus was these days, his own intuition, his own thoughts, and his hard earned knowledge… _untrustworthy._

His professor had killed a student.

It didn't matter that Mr. Potter had survived, again. All that mattered was that the curse had been cast with intent to harm.

And the class that had witnessed, the class that had watched a fellow student fall to his death as the teacher turned on them, they would never be the same.

The rumours would spread, and there it would be, another generation who didn't-

Who _could not_ trust the adults around them would go on.

Their community had been fractured enough, ruled by fear enough, and Albus had only assisted that.

And Voldemort had returned. Albus had thought, had believed, that though Alastor may take things a bit too far, he would have been able to impart some wisdom to a body of students who desperately needed to be taught defence.

And he made it all so, so much worse.

Perhaps Minerva had been right all along.

She had been right to take in Harry.

Albus had been wrong about this, there was perhaps a multitude of things he had been wrong about.

Albus Dumbledore, the Greatest Wizard of the Age.

The Greatest Failure.

"Albus," Kingsley said gently.

Albus looked to the man, and saw his own reflections in the man's expression.

An old frail man who had been dealt too many hits in too long a life.

"So what actually killed him?" Tonks, the trainee asked.

Amelia huffed, "Well, it was either the Killing Cursing rebounding off the Boy Who Couldn't Take A Hint, or it was the several dozen stunners that hit him after, though it doesn't reall-"

Just then the body began to twitch.

Tonks leapt back, " _Stupify!"_

The stunner hit, but the body kept twitching, then the corpse's skin seemed to melt like wax, then they watched it reform. The magical eye rolled across the floor, the peg leg shoved aside by a bare foot.

Amelia cursed under his breath, "Didn't he die? Crouch Jr. died this summer in prison."

Kingsley sighed, "It seems Mr. Potter isn't the only one who couldn't take a hint."

"Fuck," Tonks said inelegantly, "Polyjuice, a Death Eater with polyjuice?"

"This isn't going to go well after this summer's events," Kingsley stated, "Dawlish is still on leave."

"Diggory's case isn't decided until next week is it?" Amelia asked rubbing her temples.

The Bulgarian President of Magic was not at all pleased with Amos's testimony, Imperiused or no, it had been his wand to strike down the man's daughter. His grandchildren hadn't even entered school yet.

A Death Eater in the school… Minerva had been right, the Triwizard Tournament had been a fool's idea to pursue.

They had no leads on Voldemort, not until now.

And if Harry had been a bit luckier, the whole British Magical world would have been thrown into a panic at the Boy Who Lived's death.

"Where is Alastor?" he asked.

Tonks pointed at the trunk in the corner, "Maybe in the screaming trunk?"

Everyone in the room fell quiet.

And they all heard it.

Albus's heart fell.

Everything he had thought he knew, everything, he told himself he deserved, and everything he told himself he could handle, he knew now that he didn't and he couldn't.

Age, it would seem, was no cure for growing up.

* * *

The rest of the class was given calming potions and sent back to their dorms.

Malcolm showed up a few hours later.

He sat beside Minerva, taking her hand, and holding Harry's hand were it rested on the sheets.

Poppy came in some time later and forced Theo to eat. But there was nothing she could say or threaten to get him to leave, Minerva didn't even try to help her there.

It had not hard for her to deduce that Harry was the closest thing Theo had to family.

She had spoken with Severus over the last few weeks.

If Voldemort was back, then there was no way to bring a case against, Mr. Georald Nott. Not to remove his only heir from him when the murder case and Death Eater case hadn't stuck.

But Theo would be coming home with them for breaks, and Minerva wouldn't be asking for permission.

Maybe that was a form of kidnapping, but that would require Mr. Georald Nott to climb far enough out of his drink to notice.

Severus had been willing to bet he wouldn't, Severus had also that he and Lucius would step in to assuage the bastard if that became the case.

No, Theo was as much Minerva's now as Harry was, she could only hope she didn't fail him in the same way.

Or perhaps she already had.

By the looks of things, Theo would have preferred himself to be the one on the gurney.

"This isn't your fault," she said, speaking for the first time since arriving in the hospital wing.

Theo didn't look up at her, "I was there."

"Nothing stops the Killing Curse."

"Madame Bones fought off the Dark Lord this summer."

"She transfigured a physical wall between her and the curse. And she was nearly crushed to death by that wall."

Theo's hand tightened on Harry's sheets. "What about conjuring?"

"What?" Minerva asked.

"Conjuring animals? What if the Killing Curse hit a transfigured animal? Would that block it? Could it block it?"

"I don't know," she said, "I suppose it could work, though it hasn't been tried often enough to be a sure fix."

Theo shook his head, "He died, how is he still alive? I saw him die."

Minerva looked down at her son, he looked so still, but he was breathing, a bandage covered his scar. "I don't know," she said softly.

"Pomfrey said it was the High Arcana, the Dark Arts. Harry doesn't know shite about the Dark Arts."

"But Lily did."

They all jumped, and Malcolm snarled at him, "Make noise boy. Next time I will curse you."

Severus didn't smile, "I brought your dog, I found him lurking in the halls."

Orion hopped on Harry's bed, he whined and Minerva smacked the tip of his nose and warned, "Don't you dare wake him."

Orion curled into a ball at the foot of the bed.

How the hell did the grim even get into the school? How did he get from Malcolm's to here?

But Theo had other questions, "What do you mean Lily knew about the Dark Arts? Wasn't Harry's mother a muggle-born?"

"She was also my best friend once. During the war she asked me for some books, I didn't think much of it. I knew she wanted to fight in the Order, but there wasn't much she could have down while pregnant." Severus sat down beside Theo, having pulled up a chair. His voice was deep and low, not disturbing the night at all, "She hadn't reached out to me in years, and the books she asked for… I figured she was just doing research. Lily always did research when she was stressed."

"You gave a pregnant woman books about the High Arcana?" Malcolm asked, disapproval clear in his voice.

"I would have given her anything she asked me for," Severus stated unapologetic.

"And where are these books now?" Minerva asked.

"Albus's library."

Minerva sighed.

"Did you read them?" Theo asked. "Do you know what she used?"

"I have a theory."

"Well, do share with the class," Theo imitated in Severus's tone.

Minerva knew her friend well enough to see the humour in his glowering expression, "Love."

"Excuse me?" Malcolm asked.

"There was one chapter dedicated to soul magic, 'Soul Mate's', the 'Product's and Usage's of Love,' and the 'Ingredient of True Love.' It was an old book, mostly theory."

"Mostly?" Harry croaked.

"Harry!" everyone but Severus exclaimed.

"Ow," Harry winced at their loud voices.

"I'm sorry, my boy," Malcolm said softly, pushing back his bangs from his eyes.

"I'm not, you deserve a little discomfort after what you put us through, you bastard," was Theo's remark, though his voice was also much quieter and he gripped Harry's hand a bit more firmly.

"My birth mum," Harry said, each word drown out, "High Arcana?"

Severus picked up his explanation, "Using emotions in spells is a tricky thing, using them in curses is often deadly. The curse your mother used, well, to call it dangerous, to call it a fool's hope… Two souls for one."

"My father and mother's deaths," he coughed, "for mine?" Harry asked after Malcolm gave him a sip of water.

"Yes," Severus said, his voice light with surprise that Harry had caught on so quickly, "But it is much, much more complex than that. Lily used her connection to James, her love for him, and both their love for you to you."

Minerva was surprised at the calmness in his voice, "You knew this for how long?"

"Albus and I have been discussing this for years. But it was always possible that the Dark Lord had miscalculated somehow. But with Poppy's confirmation of multiple curses breaking, confirming it was the High Aracana, it just can't be coincidental that Lily had that book for months before her death. She tied the three of your souls together. Had the Dark Lord stopped at your parents, their souls would have been trapped in limbo forever."

"Wait what?" Minerva asked.

Severus looked at her, "It's the Dark Arts, Minerva, Lily and James tied their souls to Harry's, when Harry died that first time, his parents' souls had enough being, enough magic to return his soul to his body."

Harry sat up, reaching for Severus's hand, pulling free of both Malcolm and Theo, nearly kicking Orion out of bed, "They were real!?"

Poppy came in running, "Out! All of you out! He needs sleep! And where did the dog come from?"

Harry shook his head, "They were real!" Tears were trailing down his face, "Are you telling me-" his voice broke and he swallowed hard, "Are you telling me that they're trapped?"

Minerva stilled but Severus asked, "If you saw them again after the second time died, then yes. Their souls have likely been trapped in some plane of existence. From other texts I've read, likely the place before or the very place one has time to choose to be a ghost."

Harry shook the other wizard's hand, "They aren't still there, are they?"

Minerva could hardly follow, but apparently Poppy had caught on because she put a hand on Harry's, "The curses were broken today, Mr. Potter. Broken curses, they leave marks. The Killing Curse did work on you both times, but the curse used to return your soul to your body, that was broken today. You will not be able to use it a third time."

"So if you ever take another Killing Curse to the head," Theo threatened, "I will make sure limbo is the least of your worries."

Minerva didn't point out the flaws in that logic.

"So my parents are free to move on now?" Harry asked them.

"If the curse was keeping their souls trapped, then the curse breaking would have freed them, so yes," Poppy confirmed.

Minerva wasn't sure that Harry believed her, but he let himself be rested back against his pillows.

"Now, Mr. Nott," Poppy said, voice crisp, "Time for bed, _no,_ no protesting. I will agree you can stay the week and I have already set up another bed here, but you need some sleep."

She turned on the rest of them, "And enough talking, Mr. Potter needs his rest, time enough to theorize later." She pointed at the dog, "And you, a miss behaviour and I will banish your fluffy hide. You do your business outside, you hear me."

Orion sniffed, curling in on himself and resting his snout on his tail.

"Good, and good night to all of you."

Minerva didn't sleep that night, neither did Malcolm nor Severus.

There was far too much to think on, to worry on.

 _They were real!?_

Minerva heart clenched, had Lily and James literally damned themselves to revert the death of their son?

Had it been worth it?

She looked at Harry.

 _Yes._

But what were the consequences?

* * *

Theo felt naked without Harry at his side.

He hadn't been allowed to take the month off with the McGonagalls. Harry had one morning blown out all the windows in the hospital wing while he was having a nightmare.

Madame Pomfrey apparently hadn't been kidding about Harry's adjustment to having a cap coming off his magical core.

Blaise sat beside him where Harry should have been in DADA.

Dumbledork teaching Transfiguration had been… well, suffice it to say that Moody and Crouch Jr. weren't the only mad ones to have taught at the school.

Dumbledork taught in wide sweeping theories and dramatic stories with obscure messages.

Luna Lovegood was the only person in the entire school to get what the old man was trying to explain. The girl had been hounded by every house, from every grade with help with his homework assignment questions.

Of course, Theo hadn't personally found Lovegood's translations much more useful than Dumbles's initial questions, something Hermione had jointly lamented with him.

Though, all things being equal, Dumbles wasn't an awful teacher when he taught practical magic.

Theo was just a bit bias to Minerva's way of teaching. He liked her no nonsense, straight to the point, near logical approach to magic.

Dumbles was a bit more about ' _embracing the feel of your magic.'_

Theo could only hope the real Alastor Moody taught more sanely than his counterpart and boss.

But it wasn't Mad-Eye (real or fake) who tripped into their class.

Nymphadora Tonks stumbled to the front of the room, face red, hair pink as she made to introduce herself. "Hello everyone, I'm Tonks, just Tonks, no professor or use of my first name if you know it, please."

She looked incredibly young compared to everyone else who taught here. She had only graduated four years ago.

"I will be teaching this class, I am Moody's teaching assistant for the other class, so I will do my best to impart all the relevant information. Your homework will be the same as the other fourth year's class."

"Why are you teaching us?" Thomas asked.

"Well," Tonks said, seeming to pull herself up from the fluster she had begun with, "imposter or no, the Headmaster, Assistant Headmistress, and well, everyone with a lick of sense, figured this particular class concluded it would be best for Mad-Eye not to teach this _particular_ group of students."

"Oh," Neville stated sarcastically, "you mean because we were all attacked by that professor who attempted murdering the Boy Who Lived in front of us all. I suppose that makes some sense."

Blaise chuckled, and murmured to Theo, "I'm starting to like that one."

Tonks nodded, her hair flashing purple, "Yes, that's right. Now, um I was told to have you all refresh on stunners?"

Hermione spoke up this time, "We killed Crouch with stunners, I think we are good."

"Right," Tonks said, her cheeks going red again, "Okay, um, well, let's work on summing charms then."

"Those are sixth year charms," Hermione told the other girl.

Tonks waved her comment away, "The order you all learn spells doesn't matter. I mean it matters for the tests, but a lot of spells are just ordered that way because of some old guys who ordered them in some old books. Come on now, wands out."

Theo almost smiled, he liked this girl's spunk, and more than anything, he was glad he wouldn't have to share a classroom with the madman.

As their young professor had said, imposter or no, it wasn't a good idea.

* * *

Harry remained in bed for two weeks after they returned home.

He could walk just fine, but he was lethargic and sometimes feverish as if he had the flu, and his magic had tendency to explode outwards.

'Repairo' had quietly become a household favourite.

By week three though, it was only the spells he tried casting, not accidental magic that had explosive effects.

And it was this week that Malcolm and Minerva finally left his side for longer than an hour.

Orion, however, did not.

The dog was very careful not to follow him to the restroom or be around when he changed, but he now slept on Harry's bed with Apollo and Artemis.

In fact, Orion hardly ever left his side, even like now, when Apollo and Artemis were outside playing in the rare sunny day.

Harry was sitting at his desk by the window, trying to figure out his homework for DADA that Theo had sent him.

Harry was bummed that he was missing Tonks's classes, she seemed like a neat teacher. He was even, secretly, missing a chance to take a class with the Headmaster. Dumbledore was far from being one of Harry's favourite people, but his classes sounded extremely interesting.

Or maybe was just interested in watching Theo being frustrated by a teacher who wasn't completely inept at their job.

Orion bumped his head against Harry's knee.

Harry rubbed his ears, "I'm okay. Just thinking."

He flipped through his book, "I guess I need to start taking DADA more seriously. Theo thinks Transfiguration is the key to stopping the Unforgivables, which you know, being Minerva's son, I should be okay getting ahead with, but there is still a ton of stuff DADA covers. I thought of dropping Magical Creatures after next year, but not now. I mean look what Theo and I survived our first few years, a troll."

Orion whined.

"A Basilisk."

Whine.

"Dementors."

Whine.

"And now more people. And the Dark Lord is back, his Death Eaters are escaping prison, and ones like Theo's dad are still out there. The world isn't safe and like it or not, I am always going to be a target, and so are the people I love."

Orion let out an extra long whine, almost a sigh.

Harry nodded as if he had spoken, "I know, I know, I can't stop loving people, I can't stop living and stop letting people into my life. My parents didn't die so I could become a hermit."

Orion yipped.

"Speaking of my parents, my dad, James, when I was dead, or in the in-between or whatever, told me to tell you something."

Orion stilled.

"I know, right? So weird he knew my dog. But anyway, dad told me to tell you that you're a good boy, Orion."

The grim's ears flattened, and Harry smiled.

"James said that it wasn't your fault, that they forgive you, that ' _we all made mistakes, and now it is time to move on.'_ "

Orion froze, his breathing slowing.

"Orion?" Harry asked.

Nothing.

"Orion, Orion, are you alright? Come on, it isn't like you knew them. Or did you? You are a magical dog I guess. Come on, Orion, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

The grim sunk down, resting his head on Harry's feet.

"Okay, fine, mope, but that isn't taking my dad's advice, now is it? It's time to move on, Orion."

He whined again mournfully.

Harry rolled his eyes and went back to his studies.

But Harry began to worry as the day wore on.

At dinner he finally said to Malcolm, "I don't know what's wrong with him."

"He's a weird dog," Malcolm said, placing a plate in front of Harry, Harry currently wasn't allowed anywhere near the kitchens, "Sometimes, I don't think he's a dog at all. I still can't figure out how he got to Hogwarts."

Harry frowned at the Orion where he sat slumped near the door. Apollo and Artemis were at Harry's side, there eyes big and their tails wagging as the patiantly-impatiently begged for scraps.

"What if he isn't a dog?"

Minerva tilted her head, "What do you mean, Harry?"

"What if he's an animagus?" And he was almost certain of it when he said it, and not just because Orion's ears pinned back.

She shook her head, "No, no, he's been with us too long, _I_ would have noticed."

But Harry could see the idea forming in her head, and they all knew who Orion might be if he were a human.

And it suddenly made sense why James, a very dead James, would care at all for a family dog.

Because he wasn't a family dog, but a very close family friend.

"No," Minerva said, her voice thick with denial, she pulled her wand, "If so this spell should-"

Orion stood and transformed before she could cast his spell.

" _DAMNIT BLACK!"_ Minerva shouted at him.

A man with bright blue-grey eyes stood with his hands up, his beard was down to his chest, his hair was a fluffy mass at the back of his head. He was clean thanks to all the grooming spells Malcolm had cast on him, but the prison uniform was still worn at the seams, and he was barefoot. "Sorry Professor."

Malcolm fell out of his seat laughing, he said through tears of laughter, "I was going to get you neutered after Harry returned to school."

Sirius Orion Black glared at the other wizard, "Ha ha, McGonagall, very funny."

Apollo and Artemis jumped him then, barking wildly and licking his cheeks as if greeting Harry or Malcolm after a time away.

"So, Orion," Harry started, leaning back in his seat, "I guess you have some things you would like to tell us?"

Sirius Black smiled at him under his beard, "Aye, that I do, Harry." Then he frowned, "But, and I know I have no right to ask anything from any of you," his voice was rough from disuse, "but can you please never call me 'Orion' again, please? I know it is my middle name, but I am not my father."

* * *

No sooner had Harry returned to Hogwarts, on Sunday, then he was dragging Theo off to the Room of Requirement. A room they had discovered some time last year when they had gone looking for trouble.

Well, actually, they had been looking for an empty classroom where Minerva wouldn't find them out so they could practice animated Transfiguration and advance Potions from a scribbly version of a sixth year book they had found in the Potions classroom, but it amounted to the same.

"What is it?" Theo asked, seeing that Harry had something he was bursting to say, "And you look better."

And he really did, Harry looked, healthy, healthier than he had before the Killing Curse. Aside, of course, from the elongated scar that his bangs couldn't cover anymore.

"I feel much better, and my spells are like ten times better now. But that's not what I wanted to tell you."

"Then tell me."

"Orion is Sirius Black."

Theo blinked brown eyes, "Excuse me."

"Sirius _Orion_ Black is a grim animagus. That's how he got out of Azkaban. The Dementors couldn't sense an animal and he is registered so no one thought put up extra protections."

Theo sat down in a chair that magically appeared for him, "There was always something odd about that dog." He frowned, "Actually, there is something a bit odd at any person being able to pretend to be a dog that well, animagus or no."

Harry laughed also sitting, a fireplace appeared on the wall closest to them, making the room cozy. "I know, Malcolm said he was going to neuter him."

"Before or after he turned into a human? Also, I'm assuming Black turned out not to be a Death Eater whose been living with you for over a year judging by your smile."

"It was Peter Pettigrew, the Death Eater, the spy, and the rat, Orion, excuse me, Sirius, murdered on the train tracks last summer."

"Damn," Theo stated, "And there you were giving him a cookie."

Harry snorted, "The bastard deserved it. And despite what Minerva said, I agree with Malcolm on this, whether Pettigrew were alive or dead, Sirius isn't going to see a fair trial. Especially not now when all hell is breaking loose. The rumours that the Dark Lord is back are growing by the day. More and more people are going missing."

"I've been asking around, according to everyone's parents, it isn't as bad as it was the first time. Not as many people are going missing."

"The Order of the Pheonix is back together," Harry shared.

Theo sighed, "I need to teach you Occlumancy."

"Mind Arts?"

"Mind Arts. I know some basic stuff, my mum taught me when I was really little. I think Draco is the best in our year though. His mother is a Black and his godfather is Snape. Snape is rumoured to be one of the best in two generations."

"Makes sense if he is a triple agent."

"But back to Sirius Black, what's he like? What are the McGonagalls going to do with him?"

"He's… well he's like Orion but he can talk now. And Malcolm and Minerva said he can stay with us in hiding. Even Dumbledore doesn't know about him, Mum thinks he will be a good secret weapon against-"

"Against people who want to assassinate you," Theo said dryly, "Well, a guess adults do have brains after all."

Harry stuck his tongue out, "Oh, and get this my birth father was an animagus too."

"What was he, a squirrel?"

"No," Harry said with a grin, he released his wand called for his Patronus, "He was a buck."

* * *

Harry watched Tonks elaborate on a banishing spell during a combat situation, her arms going above her head as she made swooshing motions as she explained.

Her hair changed from silver to black to canary yellow.

Theo said quietly into his ear, "Your drooling again."

Harry shoved his friend, sending him toppling into Blaise who shoved Theo back bodily into Harry.

They both crashed to the floor.

"I don't appreciate the mimicry, boys," Tonks called to them, before continuing her version of a lecture.

Theo was snickering as he righted his chair.

Harry felt his cheeks redden as he sat back down.

"Awwe, your blushing," Theo remarked.

"At least I don't linger behind so I can stare at Hermione's butt," Harry whispered back.

Blaise hid a smile behind his hand.

"At least she's a girl my own age."

Harry kicked him.

Daphne broke the tip of her quill.

Harry felt his heart sink. He had gone to the Yule Ball with Daphne.

As friends.

It had been great, mostly.

Theo had gone with Mili while Hermione Granger had gone with Viktor Krum.

The Hogwarts sole Champion, the guy currently leading in points, Cedric Diggory had taken some Ravenclaw girl.

Harry had enjoyed the night, he liked the music, he even liked dancing, Minerva having taught Harry how to lead and Daphne teaching him all the extra fun spins.

But Daphne had led him off to a balcony, hidden by Christmas decorations.

The kiss had been wonderful.

There was no denying that, no more than Harry could deny that Daphne was a beautiful, beautiful girl.

But he just didn't see her like that.

Well, that wasn't true, Harry did have eyes, he did _see_ her.

But Harry had a hard time finding stuff to say to Daphne when they were alone. They could have made decent friends, but dating?

Minerva told him that the best policy was honesty. Sirius who he had been exchanging almost as many letters with as Malcolm, almost, had advised the same.

Daphne hadn't thrown anything at him, not like Lavander Brown dropping an entire pitcher of pumpkin juice (what a waste) over Ron Weasley's head.

But Daphne had not at all appreciated being friend zoned.

The bell rang and she was the first out the door.

Harry felt bad.

"She'll get over it," Theo said, "she'll get to know you more now and realize how lucky she is not to be with you."

"Thanks so much," Harry said sarcastically.

"But maybe, you could be a bit less obvious about your crush on-"

Harry put his arm around Theo's neck and half strangled him as they walked out of class.

Hermione came up to them, "Can we sit with you guys at the Final Task tonight?"

Harry didn't release Theo, "We would _love_ to, isn't that right, Theo?"

Theo was turning blue.

Hermione giggled, "Right, see you then."

Neville waved at them, smiling as he passed.

Theo elbowed Harry in the gut, gasping for breath, "Potter, one of these days, one of these damned days."

Harry only grinned as they went to dinner.

The year was almost over, and Harry was ready to go back home and enjoy the summer.

oOo

"Whose stupid idea was this?" Theo asked loudly, "A maze? Really? Didn't the lake teach them anything? This is a boring spectator sport."

"It isn't a sport," Hermione said, not looking up from her book, "they are tasks of skill."

"Yeah, boring tasks of skill, for all we know they just walked in then walk out. We will only have what they say to go off of."

"I heard there's a Sphinx in there," Harry said, flipping through his own book on DADA. He was happy that DADA seemed mostly Charms, though there were a few spells that he sort of believed to be light flavoured Dark Arts, or he was coming to seem them as, Wild Magic.

"See that's awesome," Theo said, he was no small fan of Magical Creatures as subject, "But I can't see the Sphinx, so what does it matter?"

"It will be over soon enough," Blaise said, using a wandless warming charm to warm up his mug hot chocolate.

The whole stands had basically been talking and gossiping for last hour and a half.

Draco was sitting between his parents who had enough political pull to be here. The Durmstrang stand was view in number, the tensions between Britain and Bulgaria damaged enough that many foreigners had chosen not to send their students to Hogwarts. It meant they had about fifteen extra students at the Slytherin table.

Harry and Theo had rather liked Viktor Krum. They were both secretly voting for the Bulgarian Seeker as opposed to Diggory.

Cedric Diggory was just a bit on the snobbish side. Harry had nothing against Hufflepuff, in fact, aside from Smith, found Hufflepuff on the whole the easiest for Slytherins to get along with, even the Ravenclaws tended to snub their noses at them when they were trying to get ahead either in house points or individual marks. But Diggory seemed to take everyone for granted, like just because he smiled at you meant you should smile back, and he thought less of you if you didn't.

The French were more trusting than Durmstrung School, or more proud, and their stands were nearly full. The Ravenclaw table had needed to be extended to accommodate them. Which Harry found silly, there were three other tables after all.

Regardless, outside of the students, the atmosphere was tense. Apparently, the government officials, national and international, had a lot riding on the outcome of tonight. How this was supposed to bring international unity, Merlin only knew.

Dumbledore had publically stated he did not want to host the tournament, but Minister Cornelius Fudge had called Dumbledore an old fool and that all the arrangements had already been made.

Newspaper article after newspaper article was slipping in barbs against the Headmaster, undermining the Dumbledore's position and outward image of stability.

Minerva had publicly called Fudge a foolish bastard afraid of his own shadow and not fit to run an ad company much less a country.

No one was fool enough, apparently to run a smear campaign against a McGonagall, but her public comments had not been reprinted in the papers.

Harry was growing more frustrated with their government by the day.

Madam Amelia Bones had testified that Dark Lord was back, and government was more worried about their image during this stupid tournament.

A tournament that like Theo had pointed out, was damn boring to watch.

Until it wasn't.

Deep in the maze, there was a flair of green light.

Everyone who saw it went quiet.

"No," Harry heard Minerva breathe from the stand above them.

The entire group of spectators grew still and quiet.

A flare went up, followed by another, and another, and another.

All from the same place, likely the same wand.

Dumbledore, Minerva, Amelia, Kingsley, Hagrid, and Maxime ran into the maze, the hedges jumping out of their way as they ran toward the flares still blazing in a red arch above the field.

Fleur Delacour came out of the maze ten minutes later.

She held up the trophy in triumph, but no one cheered, the band did not play.

She huffed, "What is wrong with you all? I won, have I not?"

No one answered her.

Karkuroff stared into the maze like an abandoned child.

Amos Diggory paced at his side at the entrance of the maze. His wife was rooted to the spot and seemed to be counting the seconds on her fingers she tapped against her side.

Another twenty minutes later.

Kingsley Shacklebolt came out carrying a body.

Amos Diggory let out a wail such as haunted Harry's memories.

"No! Not my son!" Mrs. Diggory screamed as Amos Diggory yelled, " _That's my son! That's my boy!"_

They took Cedric's body to the ground with them, sobbing.

Dumbledore had an arm around Viktor Krum's waist, Minerva on his other side, it was hard to hear what he said, and it wasn't in English to begin with.

But Harry could guess. They had all gotten to know the boy a bit, Harry had even flown with him.

Viktor Krum was a good person, but someone had been in the maze tonight, someone who had Imperiused Viktor Krum and made him use the Killing Curse on Cedric Diggory.

And in doing so, broken international relations with Britain and outside nations for years to come.

Harry looked at the maze that seemed to fade into the dark horizon and tried to tune out the grieving parents and the chaos breaking out in the stands.

Harry felt the breeze across his face, shift his hair, watched the leaves of hedges sway.

He wondered who had been out there tonight. Could it be the Dark Lord himself?

Had it been Lord Voldemort, returned at long last?

The wind shifted and Harry took in a deep breath.

Another war.

Or perhaps, the last war had never ended.

* * *

AN: Thoughts?


	13. Dramatic Irony

KEYnote: Harry is not evil, will not be evil at any point in this story. NO DarkHarry. The start of this story begins at the end of this chapter, thank you all for bearing with this 50k word prequel experiments, the following chapters will not be summaries.

Y'all goin' hate me.

* * *

 **Dramatic Irony:** Irony that is inherent in speech or a situation of a drama and is understood by the audience but not grasped by the characters in the play.

* * *

Chapter 13 - Dramatic Irony

Narcissa sat across from Sirius. His beard was trim, his hair curled to his shoulders, his eyes were bright and quite frankly, he had no right to look that good after thirteen years in Azkaban.

"Sooo…" Sirius drawled, giving her a roguish grin, "are we just going to sit in a well of silence?"

"You're the sole heir to our family, are you really going to be a dog forever?"

He leaned back in his seat, "How's Dromeda?"

"Don't talk to me about my sisters."

"You're the one who brought up family, Cissa. And I spent thirteen years locked in a cell beside Bella. Why wouldn't I ask about the good one? The only one of us who turned out alright."

"Shut up, I have a son, a family. You're the one with nothing."

He raised his eyebrows, "I have nothing? I admit, aside from Harry, I don't have much. But Bella? Bella is the one with nothing, not even her sanity. And Reggie? Reggie's dead. And then there's you."

"Don't you dare say a word against my famil-"

"Yes, your _perfect_ family. That's why you brought your son here. _Here_ , not with his close friends or to your sister's home, but to a professor's home. Because you're worried a Dark Lord is going to come back and take over your lives, _again._ "

"Fuck you."

Sirius laughed, "Again, how is Andromeda? The one who made it out."

"I don't know. She has a daughter."

"I'm aware, she's an Auror. The irony is beautiful."

"How did you survive it?" Narcissa asked. "No one survives, not that long, not like-" she motioned toward him, "like this. Barty came out-"

"Bat shit. Granted though, he went in as a kid, and even then, sane people don't torture others into insanity."

Narcissa gritted her teeth, "How?"

He sighed, looking away from her, "I wasn't guilty. At least not for what I had been imprisoned for."

"And that was enough?"

He sighed again, "I don't know, Cissa, how do you gauge your own sanity? I know I'm not a danger to Harry or his friends. That's all that matters in the end, no?"

She agreed, but she supposed she wasn't much of a judge. She hadn't grown up in a healthy household either. "And you will stay a dog?"

"Yes, no one knows."

"Surely Pettigrew told the Dark Lord."

"If he did, it still wasn't widely known. It gives me a split minute advantage if they are attacked and I am with them."

"I thought you would make terrible spy, apparently I was wrong."

He grinned, "Don't worry, cuz, I think you'll recover. You've never taken a mistake to heart before."

"If my son comes to harm-"

He waved his hand, "Yes, yes, eternal suffering, yada yada. Draco will be safe here. Hell, Harry will be with him."

She frowned, "That just makes him a bigger target."

Sirius shrugged, "The boy has a talent for DADA. Too bad he wants to be an artist, he would probably make a splendid Auror."

"No, that's Theo's dream."

"How's his father taking that?"

She stood, "According to my husband, Georald likely doesn't remember. He keeps trying to drown himself at bars."

"Does he even know the Dark Lord is back?"

Narcissa looked at him, her heart aching, "He will soon, cousin, everyone will."

"He showed up at your manor, didn't he?"

"Lucius won't say," she said, the memory of her husband sprawled on marble steps flashed through her mind's eye.

His glazed grey eyes as he tried to tell her not to worry, that everything would be okay.

Lies. All lies.

She could only pray Siri wasn't lying to her now.

* * *

That summer Minerva and Malcolm ended up spending a great deal of time at Hogwarts.

The wards of Hogwarts were being reinforced and any and all passages were being blocked. The very walls of the castle were being spelled not to open.

Theo, Harry, and Draco spent a great deal of time studying. It was almost like cheating with so many adults around to help them.

But they had all realized how real the war was becoming.

Theo and Sirius tried teaching the basics of Occlumency to Harry, and when he grew comfortable with the basics Minerva asked for Severus's help.

He began training all three boys.

Theo was a natural, and it was a split between who was worse, Harry or Draco.

But eventually, they all get better.

* * *

"Great," Blaise stated. "A government employee, they are really scraping the barrel now."

"We aren't going to learn shite," Theo growled.

"Yeah, Granger's comments on the first day were most illuminating," Draco said.

They were in the common room with nearly all of Slytherin House students gathered.

"But it's been weeks," Blaise complained, "And Umbridge hasn't imparted anything of worth."

One of the seventh years said, "Screw DADA, she's turning the whole school against us, and I swear, if I hear one more story about how 'dark' Potter is becoming a lord I'm going to scream. Who does that Rita woman think she is?"

"DADA is _important_ ," Harry said, speaking up for the first time in a while, "We need it. All hell is going to break loose soon and we need to be able to defend ourselves when the fighting starts."

"Or you know," Theo added with false cheer, "when a masked stranger sneaks into our houses and threatens everything we love and care for."

Mili groaned, throwing her hands up, "I thought Umbridge was a Slytherin, wasn't she supposed to side with our House? Why is she turning everyone against us?"

Another older year said helpfully, "Everyone's always been against. And now that everyone's scared we make the perfect scapegoat."

"This is only going to get worse," Harry prophesized.

Professor Snape came in through the door. "I bring ill news," he said with no preamble, "There has been a prison break from the high security cells of Azkaban."

"Damnit Potter!" over half the room chorused.

Snape frowned down at Harry, "What did you do?"

Harry sunk into his seat beside Theo who sniggered at his discomfort. "Nothing, Sir," he mumbled.

Theo covered his mouth.

Trust Theo to laugh driving full speed down the road to Hell.

Snape shook his head, "All of you who need to contact your guardians, please give your letters to me and I will assure they arrive. Any of you who know you can't return home and need to speak with me, I will make myself available for office hours and I will be staying in the room beside the prefect bedrooms in the case that you need to speak with me during the night. And finally, if any of you need me to send a letter or speak with your guardians, I will do so."

The room went quiet as friends looked to friends and others stared at their feet. No one was going to ask for help in front of everyone else.

"What are you going to do about Umbridge?" Draco asked his Godfather.

"What do you mean 'do'? There is nothing to 'do', Mr. Malfoy, she is a professor."

"She a bloody tosser," this time it was a younger student called from the back of the crowd.

"Language," Snape snapped, "And be that as it may, the position is cursed and there isn't anyone who willing to take the job."

"Why not you?" Another voice called out.

He gritted his teeth, "Because, as the Headmaster has put it, he doesn't want me to befall 'an accident.' And then, of course, they would need to find someone to teach potions. And keeping children from poisoning themselves or blowing themselves up is not an envied position." There was heat to his last statement, and Harry finally got a clue as to why Snape tended to be so cranking when was teaching.

Aside from his general dislike of young children.

"Potter could teach it," Blaise threw in.

"Excuse me?" Snape snarled, "Good marks does not a Potions Master make, much less a teacher."

"No," Blaise said evenly as if the professor were being slow, "Not Potions, DADA, Harry could teach it. He's spent more time in the library than Granger of late and from what Malfoy tells us, he's been obsessed over the summer. Whatever he knows is more than whatever is in this government approved nonsense book knows."

"Fudge is a twat!" again, this from another younger student.

Harry and Theo exchanged a smirk as Snape hissed, " _Language._ And how, Mr. Zabini, would that work? Mr. Potter must attend his other classes, and no one, least of all Fudge, is going to approve it."

"That and the other houses would hate it," this from the seventh year prefect. "Potter is back to being the next Dark Lord in the public eye. Despite being the victim last year."

Theo smiled lazily, "Potter is usually the victim."

Blaise gave a long sigh, "I don't mean teach the class, I mean a club, and screw the other houses. Harry teaches a Slytherin DADA club."

Snape looked at Harry and Harry looked back. He didn't see disapproval in that thoughtful onyx gaze, but before Harry could protest, Draco said, "Yeah, that would work."

"All in favour?" Blaise called.

And to Harry's consternation, every single student raised their hand, including Theo. Harry was rendered speechless.

"Well?" Blaise asked Snape, "you're our Head of House, yee or nay?"

Snape frowned, "Dolores already restricted Quidditch, this club won't pass."

"Would the Headmaster care?" Theo asked.

He almost smiled, "Headmaster Dumbledore will most likely applaud your gall."

"Will?" Harry asked.

"Will," Snape said, "You will do this Mr. Potter, and you will come to myself or Professor McGonagall if you need help. But this will remain within Slytherin, a secret within Slytherin. As your prefects have pointed out, our house is being targeted, when things go wrong, we will be blamed." He looked at all the young faces staring up at him, "But it will not be our fault. The Dark Lord came into power through Slytherin. He _used_ the students, the children of this house to his own ends."

"I know that many of you have been affected by the war, I know there are prejudices that persist, and I know there remain family loyalties, but I implore you all to take care. The Dark Lord can seduce and lull as easily as he can threaten. But he will never be on your side, he is selfish, and he is dangerous.

"He is not Slytherin, _you_ are."

"And Slytherin takes care of their own," everyone chorused back.

Harry stared at Snape in awe, these were students he was trusting. He was a spy, he shouldn't have said that, shouldn't have warned them against the Dark Lord.

He glanced at Crabbe and Goyle, they were both bastards, dumb bastards. Harry wouldn't have trusted them not to tattle on Snape to their parents.

But Harry also saw the younger students, and knew that it was worth the risk, worth it to at least warn them of the danger they were in.

Ice dropped into Harry's stomach as he realized it would now be his job to protect them. To give them a fighting a chance against whatever might come at them.

Harry straightened, this was it, this was his chance to _do_ something. When the Dark Lord came for them, they wouldn't be mindless sheep.

Slytherin would be a united house, despite what family loyalties remained, they would remain loyal to each other first.

People like Snape and Minerva had their best interests at heart. But they had all learned that trusting all adults was overrated.

Let Voldemort come for them. Let Umbridge declare her decrees.

This was war.

* * *

End of the 5th Year After the Exams

* * *

Harry, along with all the 5th Slytherins had been called to Umbridge's office.

Suffice it to say, Slytherin house had done specularly well on their exams, both OWLS and NEWTS.

And Dolores Jane Umbridge had one person to blame.

"Drink the tea, Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled at her, "Bloody hell no."

She hadn't been able to find the Room of Requirement and they had never been caught in the halls because Minerva, Flitwick, or Snape were always the ones patrolling those nights they had HC (Hedwig Club) meetings.

"Ten points from Slytherin!" she yell/spat into his voice.

Theo whisper cried, "Oh no, negative numbers."

"You all will tell me what you have been up to. I will have you and seventh years test scores discounted for cheating, and next year, oh mark my words; next year you will suffer.

"Still bitter about the Weasley twins then?" Blaise asked.

She growled, actually growled at him.

The fun thing the school had learned, don't let the school pranksters team up with the smartest girl of the generation.

Hermione hadn't been caught, but there was a reason the twins had survived until their NEWTS tests before flying of into the sunset, and that reason was the debacle mind that had driven Umbridge to near insanity and Rita Skitta packing away her quill.

"Are you done?" Harry asked, crossing his arms, "we are going to be late for the closing feast. We aren't going to talk."

"Oh, you will, Mr. Potter, you will," she turned on him, wand raised and they all ducked to the ground, calling up shield charms.

But Umbitch aimed low, " _Crucio!"_

Pain flattened Harry to the ground, his back arching as he fought not to scream.

Coming back to life last year had hurt more, but the torture curse was no picnic.

It didn't last long, however, because Umbitch was brought down by several stunners.

Harry rolled onto his stomach, pushing himself up as Theo walked over to the stunned teacher.

He kicked her in the head, then hit her with another overpowered stunner, right between the eyes.

Daphne caught Harry's arm as he got to his feet. "You didn't even scream," she whispered.

He shook his head, "Let's get out of here. Next year I think we all need to focus on more offensive spell work."

Mili skipped beside, "Yeah!"

They shut and locked the door behind them.

* * *

"Where is the Dolores?" Severus asked in a low tone, though even in a whisper he made her name a sneer as Albus stood to give his speech.

"Well, another year has come to an end-"

Minerva didn't answer, she was staring at Harry where he sat rubbing his temples at the Slytherin table.

"I would like to congratulate Slytherin House for winning the House Cup!" The drapes flashed green, but Slytherin house did not cheer and nobody clapped.

Severus sighed, "Oh, Albus..."

"Upon review, the last two Quidditch matches were not disqualifying for the Slytherins, and I am rewarding a hundred points to the 5th and 7th years, each, for their outstanding performances during the OWLS and NEWTS."

The seventh year Slytherin prefects stood together, "No, Headmaster," one said, and the other finished in perfect agreement, "Ravenclaw won the House Cup and Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup. You can't change it at the last moment."

Minerva stood and transfigured the banners blue before Albus could stick his foot in his mouth.

Albus finished his speech sitting back down looking completely miffed. "Wha-" he began but Minerva and Severus cut him off, "We will speak afterwards."

"Does Harry look alright to you?" Filius asked, "He looks a bit pale."

Minerva looked back at her son, and no, he didn't look like his normal self.

She worried throughout the feast, but he didn't make her wait long once people started exiting.

Dolores never showed.

Harry came right up to the head table, and said in a low voice so his voice didn't carry, "Umbridge called our class to our office to interrogate us about high marks. She snagged me the Cruciatus Curse."

Minerva stood, her chair toppling back, "That bitch did what!?"

Those exiting stopped to look at their very Scottish professor.

"Are you alright, my boy?" Albus asked weakly.

Minerva could almost hear him think it, _we almost got through this year._

"Yeah, it was less than a minute, everyone stunned her. We locked her in her office, hence why she isn't here."

Minerva pulled him into a hug.

Harry was definitely going to be the death of her.

oOo

"I'm fun, Mum, we will see you when we get home."

Minerva had no desire to let Harry ride the train.

Poppy patted her arm, "I'll ride the train back with them."

As soon as the train set off, Minerva apparated to Malcolm's.

"Sister," Malcolm greeted warmly, "I was just preparing dinner for the little mon- what's wrong."

"Another Unforgivable!" She bellowed.

Sirius transformed back into a human, "Harry's!?"

"He's alive!" she shouted at them, "But that _fucking bitch_ crucioed him! My son!"

Malcolm's expression was cold, "Is she still breathing."

"No," Minerva said, falling into a dining room chair. "No, she didn't survive the dozen stunners. Those kids are trained now, and they were enthusiastic."

"They were scared and pissed," Malcolm said, throwing a pot into the sink. "Minerva, we can't keep doing this, if it had been another Killing Curse…"

"Harry wasn't under longer than a minute. Poppy says he's fine," she tried to assure him, but her accent was thick enough that she knew she sounded far from convinced herself.

Sirius cussed a stream of vulgarity, and Minerva wanted to sing along with him. She wished Umbridge was alive, wished she could be alive to experience the Dementor's Kiss.

She put her face in her hands, "This isn't going to play well in the public. The Slytherin 5th year class killed a Hogwarts professor, another professor."

Malcolm put a hand on her back, "Another professor who used the Unforgivables against Harry."

She looked up at him, "I can't keep doing this. I can't have another year like this. I was damn near helpless this year. Albus's reputation was debilitating, and the ministry interfering…"

"You're assistant Headmistress," Sirius stated.

"So what?" Minerva snapped at him. "Albus-"

"Perhaps," Malcolm interrupted, "What Sirius means to say, is that it is time Albus Dumbledore step down as Headmaster."

Minerva looked at her hands, and tightened them into fists, she looked at him, "It is time. Past time. Next year will be different. Next year the defence professor is not going to torment my students."

* * *

Start of the 6th Year

* * *

"Are you alright, Albus?" Minerva asked as she caught her friend's arm.

"Yes, yes. Just a headache, I think I had a bad dream last night, I just… I just can't remember it."

"Some nightmares are best forgotten," she said, her hand tightened on his arm. "Are you okay with this?"

He smiled up at her, "This school is in good hands. I find myself relieved, and I confess, a bit excited to just be teaching again. I also don't envy you the paperwork, my dear."

Minerva smiled back, glad to see the twinkle return to his gaze, "The government seems to have learned their lesson, for now."

Albus laughed as they entered the Great Hall, "Oh my dear, dear Headmistress, the government never learns their lessons."

The new DADA professor smiled at them as they sat down, Minerva in the centre between Albus and Filius. Severus sat on the other side of Albus and Pomona on the other side of Filius.

Pomona flushed and giggled as the new DADA professor flirted good-naturedly.

Aside from being actually qualified for the position, Minerva had tested him herself, the wizard struck an impressive image.

He was a tall man with broad shoulders and a slim waist, his posture was rigid. His silver hair was thick and slicked back, his intense brown eyes gazed at the students over thin ovaled, silver-rimmed glasses.

When the time for announcements came, Minerva introduced the professor she had such high hopes for, "And to fill the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, may I introduce, Professor Tom Riddle."

The wizard stood and bowed, a hand to his heart.

* * *

AN: This story begins here :D Reactions, thoughts, ideas, requests, or magical serpents? Pretty, pretty please?


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